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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276736">number?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadie_edmark/pseuds/sadie_edmark'>sadie_edmark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM Scene, Blow Jobs, Cock Warming, Crying, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Established Relationship, Flogging, Forced Orgasm, Horny, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Mutual Horniness, Nipple Clamps, Online Shopping, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Spanking, Stress Relief, the whole lot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:42:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24276736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadie_edmark/pseuds/sadie_edmark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is a stressed-out Wall Street stockbroker. Billy is the stress-relief.<br/>---<br/>Billy lets go of his wrist and forces his legs shut, smirking at the way Steve whimpers when the movement jolts the toy.<br/>“You can keep that in while we take a nap,” he says, and then adds, voice low, “I did say you wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>246</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. seven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>STEVE (15:03)</p><p>
  <em>do you have time this week?</em>
</p><p>BH (15:12)</p><p>
  <em>i’m free tomorrow after 8. number?</em>
</p><p>STEVE (15:14)</p><p>
  <em>perfect. 7. i'll be there.</em>
</p><p>BH (15:15)</p><p>
  <em>see you then</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>There is a tangible feeling of relief that permeates the office as soon as the clock hits five. At the neighbouring desk, Tommy unwinds his tie and pops the first few buttons of his shirt open. Across from them, many others do the same. </p><p>It’s done. It’s over. The market is closed. </p><p>Above them, on the far wall of the room, the glowing ticker-tape of green positives and red negatives pronounces them the winners of today. Another display shows off the bright white <em>+2.57% </em>that they were all striving to hit. </p><p>Steve thinks he actually hears someone whoop, but he can’t be sure past the rushing of blood in his ears.</p><p>Tommy turns to him and says something.</p><p>“What?” says Steve.</p><p>Tommy snorts and repeats, “I said—The Full Shilling or Beckett’s?”</p><p>Steve shakes his head and glances at his wristwatch. “Go without me tonight.”</p><p>“Aw, come on, man! It’s Friday!”</p><p>“I’ve got a thing,” says Steve, tugging on his blazer.</p><p>Carol pops up from behind the desk divider and leans on it, pouting. “Does Stevie have a date?”</p><p>Tommy laughs and claps Carol’s outstretched hand.</p><p>Steve bristles. “Yeah, actually.” It’s not a lie.</p><p>Carol pouts.</p><p>Around them, people have started leaving their desks. It’s barely ten past five. If he leaves within the next ten minutes, he’ll have time for his full cleaning regimen <em>and </em>time for dinner. </p><p>Tommy watches Steve make up his mind, scowls, and grabs his own jacket. “You’re no fucking fun.”</p><p>“Sorry.” Steve shrugs. He’s not sorry at all. He shuts down his computer and takes his bag. “See you Monday.”</p><p>Tommy’s still scowling and he calls out as Steve leaves: “You’re boring, Harrington!”</p><p>Steve flips him the bird and keeps walking. Tommy can wait. Steve’s fucking earned an evening to himself after a week like that. He’ll go out with them next Friday.</p><p> </p><p>It takes him forty minutes to get home. He dumps his bag and jacket at the door, deciding that he’ll clean up tomorrow. He’s got the day off so it doesn’t really matter anyway.</p><p>His shower takes another forty minutes—he scrubs and shaves and trims what he needs to, his hair gets a good wash and a deep condition, and the lotion he uses after leaves him smelling pleasantly of pine. He leaves the bathroom with a spring in his step and feeling far more human than he did stepping in.</p><p>Dinner is light—sugary cereal, sue him. He needs the energy boost anyway, and he washes it down with orange juice because he might as well go the full journey on this breakfast-for-dinner train. If he gets hungry later he’ll eat something more serious, but for now, it’s enough. </p><p>By the time he’s done cleaning up and getting ready, it's quarter past seven and he needs to go if he wants to be on time. He double-checks everything in his bag—lotion, hair ties, a scarf, spare cash, and one of those electrolyte drinks he’d grabbed from the gym—and then walks down to his apartment lobby to catch a cab. The receptionist there asks if he’ll be back this evening, and Steve shakes his head. She glances at his bag but says nothing. She’s been working there long enough to have grown accustomed to it, though Steve is very sure she doesn’t know what it is.</p><p> </p><p>Steve gets there at ten to eight and his heart is racing even before he steps out of the elevator and sets eyes on Billy's door. </p><p>Billy opens after the first knock and then steps aside to let Steve in. </p><p>He corners Steve up against the door as soon as it’s shut and kisses him deeply, licking into his mouth. Steve sighs and melts into it. Already, the trials of this week seem further away. Billy grips the back of Steve’s head and kneads into his spine, loosening a knot that’s been there since this morning. Steve moans.</p><p>He draws back a moment later and smirks at Steve’s dazed expression.</p><p>“You get here alright?” he says, and steps away.</p><p>Steve nods, setting his bag down and taking off his shoes. Billy extends a hand for Steve’s coat and then goes to hang it up in the hallway closet. Steve is left alone for a moment, relishing the nervous roll of his stomach that always comes on when he’s here.</p><p>Billy’s apartment is smaller than Steve’s but more lived-in. There’s artsy, abstract photographs hanging on the whitewashed walls, and tiny little potted plants on the windowsills. The floors are a deep-brown hardwood that is always somehow warm under Steve’s feet. The entire place is spotless.</p><p>“You want a drink?” Billy asks, coming back.</p><p>Steve shakes his head.</p><p>“Food?” </p><p>“I’ve had some already,” says Steve, and then tacks on: “Sir.”</p><p>Billy looks at him and smirks. The game is on. “Okay.” He points at a door down the hall. “Go in and get ready.”</p><p>Steve shivers and nods.</p><p>Billy’s bedroom is in line with the rest of his place—tasteful and masculine. Hardwood floors, shelves decorated with small artisanal sculptures, a large teak bed in the centre. Steve sets eyes on it and his shivers get deeper.</p><p>It's quick work to get rid of his shirt and jeans. He folds them neatly and puts them on Billy's desk, followed by his socks and underwear. Billy likes them neat and out of the way. Steve puts his bag under the desk and tosses his phone onto the clothes pile. </p><p>It buzzes.</p><p>TOMMY (20:03)</p><p>
  <em>ur missing out!!</em>
</p><p>There’s a picture attached of Tommy, Carol, and a few other people from the office flipping the bird at the camera. The bar they’re in is packed and dimly-lit.</p><p>Steve thinks about texting back and giggles. <em>Hey Tommy, my bad, getting the stress railed out of me, xoxo. </em>He turns the phone off and stashes it away.</p><p>Once he's naked, Steve takes a deep breath and then kneels at the foot of the bed, facing the door.</p><p>Billy comes in maybe ten minutes later. Steve doesn't look up. He waits as Billy looks him down and then comes over, cupping Steve's face with his hand.</p><p>"Hard day?" he asks.</p><p>"Hard week, sir," Steve says. He risks a glance up.</p><p>Billy smirks. He lets go of Steve's face and says, "On the bed, all fours."</p><p>Steve scrambles up and complies, crawling until he's somewhere in the centre. </p><p>Billy sighs and climbs up behind him, kneeling and leaning his hips against Steve's ass. His hands rub up Steve's ribs and down to his hips.</p><p>“What am I going to do with you, huh?” he murmurs, pressing his thumbs into Steve’s lower back.</p><p>Steve doesn’t answer. Billy’s hands wander lower, curling around Steve’s thighs. His hands are so <em>hot</em>. They’re so close to Steve’s soft dick. He swallows.</p><p>“Remind me of your number today?” says Billy.</p><p>Steve’s voice is raspy; “Seven.”</p><p>Billy’s hands dig into his thighs and massage until the muscle shakes. “You know what that means?”</p><p>Steve nods. A heavy scene. He knows. He wants it. He needs to let loose all of his anxious energy before it explodes out of him.</p><p>Billy lets go and runs his hands up to Steve’s back. Steve’s dick is getting hard just from this. </p><p>"I’ll make life a little bit hard for you,” Billy croons. “Would you like that?”</p><p>Steve closes his eyes and presses up against Billy's hands.</p><p>Billy slaps his thigh. “Well?”</p><p>“Yes,” Steve replies, and then, for good measure: “Please, sir.”</p><p>“And if I make you cry, wouldn’t that be even better?”</p><p>Steve nods his head frantically. His hands itch to dig into the sheets, to grind his palms into them, but he doesn’t because that would be disrespectful.</p><p>“Good boy.” Billy slaps his thigh again, but this time it’s playful. “On your elbows. Spread your knees.”</p><p>Then he’s gone. Steve doesn’t turn around to see where, but he hears Billy open a drawer somewhere to his right. It’s the toy drawer. Steve swallows his shiver of excitement and spreads wide, pressing his forehead into his arms.</p><p>“Head up,” says Billy, and Steve complies.</p><p>A blindfold hooks over his face. Billy ties it behind Steve’s head, testing to make sure it’s not too tight. It’s thick enough that Steve can’t see anything at all.</p><p>Billy’s hands touch Steve’s hips again, stroking. They’re warm and pleasantly calloused, leaving goosebumps. Steve listens to the way their skin rasps as Billy’s hands glide, feeling himself fall into a trance.</p><p>Out of nowhere, Billy slaps Steve’s ass—hard. </p><p>Steve yelps and jerks forwards, the point of contact hot like a brand.</p><p>Another slap, on the other side. It stings like a motherfucker.</p><p>Billy snickers and Steve can picture the shit-eating grin on his face. His hands soothe away the pain for a moment. He waits until Steve’s breathing is back under control.</p><p>Another slap—Steve grunts—on his upper thigh. One on his ass. A third in the same place the first one landed. Again, Billy rubs his hand over the marks, soothing, gentling.</p><p>Steve breathes out and shifts his weight.</p><p>The next slap he’s ready for. He lets it jolt him, lets the sting pass through him and leave him in a sigh. The next one too, and the one after that. The blindfold is making it both harder and easier—he can’t distract himself from it, but he can also savour every moment. The itch under his skin gets worse.</p><p>“Warming up?” Billy asks.</p><p>“Yes, sir”.</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>Steve hears a plastic lid pop open and then stifles a whimper when something freezing cold drips over his hole. Lube. </p><p>Billy closes the bottle and gathers it up with two fingers, rubbing them around Steve’s pucker. Steve shivers and bites his lip. The contrast of heat from his skin and the cold from the lube is so good that he wants it to go on forever.</p><p>Billy starts pushing in slowly, two fingers at once. The stretch stings but Steve just wants more. He wants it to hurt. He arches his back into it, breath hitching.</p><p>Billy sighs and his free hand comes up to caress Steve’s ass.</p><p>“So greedy,” he says.</p><p>He slaps Steve—harder than before—a resounding crack against Steve’s skin. At the same time, he shoves two fingers into Steve, up to the knuckle.</p><p>Steve swallows a groan and all that comes out in a strained whimper as he rides out the pain. Billy doesn’t give him a moment to breathe. He starts pumping in and out, spreading out the lube. His other hand pinches Steve’s thigh until Steve finally squeaks and Billy lets go, soothing the sting away.</p><p>“How long do I have you for?” Billy asks.</p><p>“Uhm,” says Steve. He swallows, tries to remember words. “I don’t have work tomorrow.”</p><p>“Great. I have a long game planned today. Don’t expect to get much sleep.”</p><p>Billy’s fingers crook and brush against Steve’s prostate. Steve shudders. His cock starts taking a real interest in the proceedings. Billy thrusts in again and begins to scissor. </p><p>Abruptly, he pulls out. Steve jerks his head up but doesn’t do anything else, even though he hates feeling so suddenly empty. He hears Billy handling something.</p><p>A cool, hard object pressed up against Steve’s ass and Billy pushes it in without waiting for Steve to adjust. It’s large—it stings. Steve relaxes and lets it in, breathing past the coldness of it. It’s heavy in him, thicker than Billy’s fingers and completely unyielding, forcing Steve’s insides to mould to it. It makes him feel too full too quickly.</p><p>Once it’s all in, Billy pats Steve on the ass and says, “Do you like your new toy?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Steve forces out. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Get up,” says Billy, and moves away.</p><p>Steve comes up slowly, struggling. The toy doesn’t bend or warp at all—the phrase <em>a stick up your ass </em>comes to mind and he swallows a nervous laugh. It’s not the largest thing he’s ever taken, but it’s not a small plug either. It hurts a little. He wonders what else Billy is planning.</p><p>Billy grabs him by the arm and tugs. Steve follows blindly, trusting Billy to not let him bump into anything as they exit the bedroom and walk down the hallway. Steve doesn’t know which room they turn into, but then there’s carpet under his bare feet and Billy’s sitting down, pulling Steve to kneel between his legs. There’s a cushion there for him.</p><p>“Spread your legs. Hands on your thighs,” Billy says. “Are your knees comfortable?”</p><p>Steve rocks forward. “Yes, sir.”</p><p>“What about your ass?”</p><p>Steve grimaces and clenches around the toy. He’ll have to sit very straight or it’ll give him a stomach ache.</p><p>Billy must see his face, because he laughs. Steve hears him lean back and then Steve hears a click. Something playing behind Steve: the distant sound of thousands of people, the sharp crack of a ball being hit, the voices of commentators overlapping as they discuss the move. A baseball match. Steve doesn’t know anything about baseball.</p><p>He settles in for a wait. He doesn’t move, but he lets his mind wander, listening out for other sounds in the room—the noise of traffic outside, the soft hum of water pipes in the walls. He feels himself starting to relax, letting the tension of the week start to trickle out of him. The toy inside him is almost grounding.</p><p>The match plays on. It seems that both teams are evenly matched, though the commentators don’t think that will continue on for much longer. One of the players is a strongly-appreciated newcomer. They wonder if he’ll turn the game around in the second half.</p><p>Billy’s hand comes up and cards through Steve’s hair. Steve wants to lean into it, but he forces himself not to. </p><p>Outside, an ambulance drives by, it’s siren dimmed heavily by the walls. Steve wonders if he’d even notice it if he wasn’t being forced to pay attention.</p><p>The hand runs down to his neck and then comes around to Steve’s jaw. A thumb pressed against Steve’s bottom lip and Steve opens his mouth, letting it inside.</p><p>Billy hums in approval. His thumb digs into Steve’s cheek and stretches it, pulling Steve’s jaw open and pressing down on his tongue.</p><p>“Keep it open,” Billy says and lets go.</p><p>Steve hears Billy unzip himself and his mouth waters. Suddenly the only thing he wants to do is suck Billy’s cock, and he might just die if he doesn’t. He can almost taste it. Billy shifts on the couch, his knees brushing Steve’s shoulders for a moment before he’s settled again.</p><p>Steve can <em>smell</em> him.</p><p>The hand is back, cupping the back of his head and guiding him forwards. His lips bump into Billy’s cockhead and Steve wraps them around it, sliding down slowly.</p><p>Above him, Billy sighs and let’s go, leaving Steve to it.</p><p>Steve takes him all the way down, stopping just shy of gagging, and breathes in Billy’s scent. He rolls his tongue around Billy’s cock and then hollows his cheeks, dragging up. He tastes salt.</p><p>Billy doesn’t react, but Steve’s always had to work harder on Billy than on anyone else.</p><p>He sucks Billy down again, slowly, pushing to go just a little bit further. His breath stutters and he pulls off. Again, deeper, until his eyes start to sting and water behind the blindfold. He wishes he could use his hands to make up the difference, but Billy’s told him to keep them on his thighs and Steve doesn’t want to disappoint him.</p><p>Billy doesn’t say anything—he just keeps watching the baseball match, sprawled on the couch with Steve gagging between his legs. </p><p>Steve picks the rhythm—back, forward until he can’t go anymore, back, forward again. He knows he’s doing a good job when he feels hair tickle his nose. He tries to come closer and closer to it, breathing past the growing ache in his jaw. His insides clench and he shivers at the unyielding mass of the toy inside him.</p><p>He goes a little too far and gags audibly, pulling off just a bit to catch his breath. He takes the moment to lave the tip of Billy’s cock, coaxing precome out onto his tongue. </p><p>The second time Steve gags, he feels his own cock twitch in response. His chin is already dripping—he’s always been so messy—and the blindfold has minute damp patches where his tears are leaking into it.  Steve sucks a breath in through his nose and does it again, pushing deeper, gaging harder. His fingers dig into his thighs. He slides as deep as he can go onto Billy’s cock and then just holds himself there, breathing past the discomfort. Here, the smell of Billy is more pronounced, earthy.</p><p>Slowly, something in his throat relaxes and gives way. He takes Billy a few millimetres deeper, chokes, and stops again. </p><p>A hand gently settles on his hair—not pushing, not pulling, just resting. Steve goes further again. His nose is almost touching Billy’s pubic bone. The hand in his hair rubs soothing circles into his scalp.</p><p>A few more seconds, a further distention of his throat, and Steve manages to take all of Billy in. He presses his face into Billy’s pubic hair and just stays there trying to adjust, little aborted swallows making his whole body shudder. He’s full, plugged up on both ends. </p><p>Steve pulls off a little bit and then swallows Billy back down. He gags, but this time it’s manageable. His throat flutters around Billy’s cock. He does it again.</p><p>Billy lets out a pleased little sigh and Steve wants to preen. Billy’s hand in his hair tugs gently, not so much asking for permission as letting Steve know what’s about to happen.</p><p>He opens his jaw as wide as he can and leans into the hand.</p><p>Billy grabs his hair and pulls him off. Just when his cock rests on the tip of Steve’s tongue, he pushes Steve back down again, all the way to the root. Steve lets out an abortive gurgle and Billy pulls him off again. </p><p>He shifts forwards on the couch and keeps Steve hovering around his cockhead. Steve feels his heartbeat speed up in excitement and dread. His jaw aches and he lets it hang loose, his tongue lolling out.</p><p>Billy tugs on his hair again, preparing him. Steve has time to suck in one deep breath before Billy pushes him down on his cock, setting a challenging pace. He brushes just past Steve’s gag limits before pulling him off and then back on again. </p><p>Steve struggles with his breathing for the first few seconds before figuring it out, pulling in air through his nose when his throat isn’t full of Billy. He’s not even sucking anymore, just keeping his mouth and throat open and willing. His thighs start trembling with the effort of keeping himself still, keeping himself from gagging or moving. His hands are clenched and pushing into the meat of his thighs, hard enough that he’ll have bruises tomorrow.</p><p>On one hard push, Billy’s cock bumps into the back of Steve’s throat and Steve swallows convulsively, choking. Billy’s breath hitches. Steve’s eyes are tearing up, but at the same time, he wants to hear that sound again. </p><p>He gasps wetly, forcibly relaxing his throat until Billy manages to brush the back of it on every thrust, leaking sticky precome all over Steve’s tongue. It’s getting harder to breathe—his nose is running. All he can smell is salt and musk.</p><p>Billy’s breathing is getting faster. His hand clenches hard in Steve’s hair, guiding him on and off with determined precision. He’s gonna come soon. Steve wants to burst.</p><p>With a grunt, Billy presses Steve all the way down and traps him there, his come hitting the back of Steve’s throat and forcing him to swallow before he chokes. Steve shakes and shudders with it, desperate to keep himself still and obedient, trying to breathe past the ache of having his jaw so stretched.</p><p>He thinks Billy will pull him off and let go of his hair, but Billy doesn’t. His grip loosens slightly, more secure than demanding, but Steve is forced to stay as Billy’s cock softens and goes lax in his mouth. He swallows the very last remnants of Billy’s come and Billy’s hand pulls at his hair.</p><p>After another moment, Steve moves his tongue around Billy’s cock, trying to get used to his shape. The hand in his hair tightens again, reprimanding.</p><p>“Stay still,” Billy says.</p><p>Steve stops. </p><p>Billy turns up the volume of the baseball match and starts carding his hand through Steve’s hair loosely, playing with it. </p><p>His jaw grows numb and his mind starts to follow. Even soft, Billy cock is large, its girth riding the edge of discomfort so Steve can’t ignore it. He sits warming Billy with his mouth and slowly, time starts to flow by. The baseball match is a muted din of noise. The occasional siren passes by outside, equally quiet. The world feels far away. He wants to both fade away and crawl out of his skin.</p><p>Billy’s thumb starts rubbing at his jaw, soothing away kinks but not pulling him off. Drool drips down Steve’s chin.</p><p>Eventually though, the match ends. The commentators make their last remarks and sign off. The program turns to loud, flashy adverts. Billy switches off the television. </p><p>Steve comes back in waves, first noticing the lack of sound. His brain tries to pull all of his bodily sensations back from the foggy place they disappeared to. His heart rate picks up.</p><p>Billy gently grasps his hair and starts pulling him off inch by inch. His cock flops out of Steve’s mouth and Steve groans, his jaw suddenly free to close. He doesn’t know how he’ll get it to move tomorrow. He sucks in deep breaths, coughing to clear his throat.</p><p>Billy starts tugging at his blindfold next, pulling it off. Steve cringes at the bright lights of the living room, hiding his face in Billy’s thigh for a moment while his eyes adjust.</p><p>When he opens them, Billy’s tucked himself back in.</p><p>“Still with me?” he says.</p><p>Steve doesn’t trust himself to speak—he nods.</p><p>Billy tugs him up and Steve hisses as his knees unfold and the blood rushes back into his feet. His legs buckle as he tries to put weight on them. Billy holds him up until Steve is sure he can stand again.</p><p>“Go wash your face and wait,” says Billy, letting go.</p><p> </p><p>Steve complies, staggering out of the room and down the hallway. The toy shifts in him strangely as he walks, both pleasant and sore.</p><p>The bedroom has an ensuite—he walks in and flicks on the light, catching his own reflection in the mirror.</p><p>He looks wrecked, his eyes still a little red, spit drying on his chin. He wipes through the sticky mess, blinks, and then turns on the tap, washing it off. The numbness from before has receded. He feels a pleasant sort of anxiety curl in his gut. He wipes his face, turns off the light, and steps out.</p><p>Billy asked him to wait. A part of him wants to climb onto the bed and lie down, his knees protesting at the idea of more kneeling, but a bigger part of him wants to be able to come sometime tonight, so he doesn’t do that. He shakily lowers himself down, wincing as the toy moves with him.</p><p>Minutes tick by. He can’t stop thinking about what’s coming next. He said he wanted it hard tonight—he <em>needed </em>it, to come out of this so wrung out he wouldn’t have the energy to stress anymore—but it doesn’t mean he’s going to like everything Billy does to get him to that state. Steve’s been a masochist long before he entered this lifestyle. He likes the spark of pain against pleasure, likes to push himself to make others happy, likes the rush of trusting someone to hurt but not break. Billy’s the only person that really gives Steve everything he needs. He likes to <em>bully</em> Steve, to make Steve <em>cry, </em>and Steve gets so hot every time he thinks of it he keeps coming back for more. </p><p>Billy’s going to make him cry tonight. Steve is both queasy and gagging for it.</p><p>The door swings open and Billy walks through.</p><p>“I’m tempted to just fuck your face again right now,” he says, stopping in front of Steve and touching Steve’s jaw. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you? Even though you’re sore.”</p><p>In answer, Steve opens his mouth wide and lets his tongue loll out, looking up at Billy, pretty as you please.</p><p>Billy’s eyes darken. He presses a thumb into Steve’s tongue and smiles.</p><p>“Good boy,” he says, letting go. “Kneel on the bed. Hands on the headboard.”</p><p>Steve scrambles up and complies, listening to Billy open the drawer and get something out. There’s a gentle clinking sound of something metallic.</p><p>The bed sags as Billy sits down beside him, reaching under Steve’s chest and pinching his nipple. Steve breathes out and doesn’t squirm. He can see Billy looking at his face, observing his reactions. He wants to be good.</p><p>The metallic thing in Billy’s hand is a pair of alligator clamps—Steve swallows as Billy attaches them and tugs on the chain to check that they’re secure. </p><p>“Do you like them?” Billy asks, knowing full well that Steve doesn’t.</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Steve answers. “Thank you, sir.”</p><p>“It’s been a long time since we’ve played with electricity, hasn’t it?” Billy muses, tugging on the chain again.</p><p>Steve’s breath catches.</p><p>Billy’s eyes drift to him. “We don’t have time today, unfortunately...but maybe some other time.” </p><p>He lets go of the chain and drags his hand down Steve’s back, coming to rest lightly just above his tailbone. Steve clenches, jolting the toy inside him. Billy’s fingers drift lazily down, circling around Steve’s entrance, touching off the base of the dildo. Steve spreads his knees just that little bit further.</p><p>Billy rewards him by pulling the toy out slowly, grinding it against Steve’s rim. The stretch stings and Steve revels in it, holding still while Billy sinks the toy back in. It brushes against Steve’s prostate, making his hardening cock jolt.</p><p>He fucks Steve with the toy leisurely while Steve shivers and shakes, swallowing down his sounds. Billy makes sure to push into Steve’s prostate at every thrust. Steve’s hands dig into the headboard. He can’t stop his hips from canting back into it, chasing the toy as it withdraws. His frustration is building. He’s already keyed up from sucking Billy’s cock, from being spanked before. He wants to go faster. He wants to <em>come.</em></p><p>Billy sighs, still pumping. “This toy is just too small, isn’t it?”</p><p>Steve shakes his head frantically. Just a little more...</p><p>“No?” Billy drawls. “Hmm, well I think it’s too easy on you. Too nice. You need to be <em>challenged.</em>”</p><p>Steve gasps as Billy pulls the toy out, his high cut short. He hangs his head and breathes. He was so <em>close. </em>He’s tempted for a moment to be a brat and whine, but...</p><p>Billy comes up into his line of sight with something new. Steve turns his head and his stomach drops.</p><p>That thing must be nine inches, if not more. Thick, too. Billy’s fingers touch where they’re wrapped around it’s widest part, but just barely. It’s bulging head is flared, and large bumps dot its shaft all the way down. It’s already dripping with lubricant, glinting menacingly in the light.</p><p>That’s going to hurt. Steve whimpers.</p><p>Billy grins. “I knew you’d like it. Are you gonna be a good boy and take it without whining?”</p><p>He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, already positioning the tip of the dildo at Steve’s entrance and starting to push. Steve sucks in a deep breath and tries not to choke on it, spreading his legs as far as he can to ease the stretch.</p><p>Billy pushes it in slowly, savouring Steve’s pained expressions. It’s going so <em>deep</em>, forcing Steve’s insides to make space for it, to mould around it. The bumps rub up against Steve’s walls in a way that makes his cock harder and makes him want to cry.</p><p>“Keep your hands on the headboard,” Billy orders.</p><p>Steve didn’t even realise he was faltering. He rights himself, putting his hands over the top edge and gripping hard. It feels like that grip is the only thing keeping him grounded.</p><p>Finally, it’s all the way in. Steve feels the way the base bumps up against his rim and he shudders, his thighs barely keeping him upright. He’s never been this full in his life. It’s so <em>heavy.</em></p><p>Billy doesn’t wait for him to calm down. He pulls the whole dildo out and then fucks back in, splitting him apart.</p><p>Steve yelps, hands scrabbling to keep him steady<em>.</em> He can’t help himself. It <em>hurts.</em> He remembers that he’s not supposed to be making any noise but he <em>can’t.</em></p><p>“I’m sorry,” he whimpers hoarsely. “I’m—mmn!—I’m sorry!”</p><p>Billy hasn’t stopped. He’s still driving into Steve, speeding up, and Steve doesn’t understand how he hasn’t torn yet, how he isn’t bleeding. It hurts, it <em>hurts.</em> It’s so <em>big. </em>The way it pushes into him, makes his blood heat—it’s not <em>fair. </em>He pants, knuckles white from their grip on the headboard.</p><p>“Didn’t I say to keep quiet?” Billy asks coldly.</p><p>Steve nods, tearing up. It’s like all of his hard-earned self-control is being eroded. </p><p>Billy says, “You’re going to have to make it up to me.”</p><p>He pushes the dildo all the way in, twisting and grinding it harshly against Steve’s prostate until Steve’s shuddering so hard he’s three seconds away from collapsing. Billy doesn’t stop until he’s on the brink of coming—that awful, wonderful precipice—and then he lets go.</p><p>Steve’s left panting into the crook of his own elbow, trying to calm down. His whole body feels like it’s on fire.</p><p>Billy slaps him on his thigh—hard—and tugs at his foot.</p><p>“Lie on your back,” he orders. “Put your head over the edge.”</p><p><em>He’s gonna fuck my mouth after all, </em>Steve thinks, and he knows it’s not going to be comfortable. His throat is still sore, his jaw tired from before. He doesn’t even want to risk moving with that huge thing inside him.</p><p>Still, he does. He forces himself up onto his knees, groaning as the dildo shifts, and then lies down somehow, pushing with his shaking arms until he’s in position. He looks up at Billy’s eyes and then opens his mouth.</p><p>Billy thrusts his cock in immediately. Steve chokes and digs his hands into the bedsheets to stop them from pushing Billy away, his whole body convulsing.</p><p>“Don’t be dramatic, I’ve already let you warm up for this today,” Billy snaps, holding still deep in Steve’s throat as Steve remembers how to breathe. His eyes are watering, tears beading on his waterline. </p><p>Billy waits just long enough for Steve to stop shaking before he’s fucking his mouth in earnest, hips pistoning as he drives deep into Steve’s throat. All Steve can do is grip the bedsheets and ride it out, open his throat, make it good for Billy. </p><p>Billy reaches down and snags Steve’s nipple clamp chain. Steve forgot they were there. Billy pulls and Steve keens, thrashing, arching into it in a way that makes Billy’s cock ram into the back of his throat. The clamps get tighter and tighter and Billy thrusts harder, getting off on Steve’s pained, choked-off sounds. Every time Steve shifts, the dildo digs in, giving him no respite on either end. </p><p>Billy bends down and takes the clamps off. Pain bursts—worse than before—in Steve’s chest as the blood floods back into his nipples, and he howls, curling up abortively. Billy nails him in place with his cock, thrusting once, twice, before he’s cursing and coming down Steve’s throat, holding him there while Steve swallows it all down.</p><p>“Fuck, baby!” Billy hisses. “Yes! Take it all!”</p><p>His hands dig into Steve’s hair and hold his head still while Billy pulls out, trailing spit and come. Steve grunts, wincing. He feels too weak to move, to do anything but swallow down the slick mess in his throat.</p><p>His head lolls over the edge of the bed, eyes unseeing.</p><p>Billy slaps him lightly on the cheek and says, “Don’t fade out yet, Steve, we’re not done.”</p><p>Steve groans and lets Billy push him upright, moaning when the dildo inside him rubs up against his prostate. Billy manhandles him into lying on his back, and then pushes his legs open.</p><p>“Look at you, you’re so red and wet down here,” Billy says. </p><p>He reaches down and drags the dildo out of him. The bumps catch on his rim, the stretch stinging like hell. Steve moans pitifully, squirming.</p><p>“This is just the perfect size for you. You’re so greedy for it.” Billy’s eyes are fixed on Steve’s face as the grinds the dildo back into him harshly.</p><p>Steve sobs and moans, “P-please, sir—!”</p><p>His hips jerk back, trying to get away. It’stoo <em>much. </em>He can’t take it anymore. He’ll <em>break.</em></p><p>Billy’s eyes narrow. “Should I let you rest then?”</p><p>Steve nods, desperate, his legs shaking.</p><p>“Alright,” Billy says.</p><p>Steve sags in relief, ready to cry. He can’t even move to close his legs. He reaches down a shaky hand to pull the dildo out of him, but Billy snatches his wrist.</p><p>“Did I say you could remove it?” he says.</p><p>Steve freezes.</p><p>Billy lets go of his wrist and forces his legs shut, smirking at the way Steve whimpers when the movement jolts the toy.</p><p>“You can keep that in while we take a nap,” he says, and then adds, voice low, “I did say you wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.”</p><p>There are tears gathering in Steve’s eyes. Billy leans in, swipes at them with his thumb, and then brings it up to his mouth.</p><p>Steve blubbers, “Please, sir, please—it <em>hurts.”</em></p><p>It’s already riding hard on the edge of too much, too big, too painful. If Billy makes him stay with it inside him, he’ll split apart. He won’t be able to walk.</p><p>Billy looks at his face and considers. He says, “Hmm. Shall I be nice to you and give you something smaller?”</p><p>Smaller isn’t nothing, but smaller is better than this. Steve nods, stupidly and deliriously grateful, spreading his legs as Billy reaches down to pull the toy out of him.</p><p>It exits with a trickle of lube and a watery hiss from Steve. He feels his hole gape and twitch, awfully exposed. He almost wishes for something back inside of himself so he could feel less embarrassed.</p><p>Billy returns with the toy from before—smaller, blissfully smaller, but still larger than a normal plug. He catches Steve looking at it apprehensively.</p><p>“Aren’t you grateful, Steve?” he says, frowning. “I’m being nice to you.”</p><p>He grips Steve’s leg and slides it into him, ignoring Steve’s groan.</p><p>“Say thank you,” he says.</p><p>Steve swallows his tears and whispers, “Thank you...”</p><p>“I didn’t hear you.”</p><p>“Thank you, sir!”</p><p>Billy slaps his thigh. “Good boy.”</p><p>He lies down on the bed and drags Steve closer, tucking Steve into the curve of his body. Steve shudders and tries to move away, tries to straighten out so the toy isn’t putting so much pressure on his insides, but Billy’s grip is like iron. He’s forced to stay.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t sleep. Billy does—a pleased, lax smile on his face, even in his dreams relishing the fact that Steve is hot and suffering beside him.</p><p>He wakes an hour later, when Steve has gone through several cycles of falling asleep only to jolt back awake from the ache in his ass. His cock is so confused, staying determinedly half-mast, leaking precome. He’s shivering and almost feverish, so hot he feels a second away from bursting.</p><p>Billy kisses the nape of Steve’s neck and sighs. “You’re being so obedient, Steve. Aren’t you grateful I taught you so well?”</p><p>Steve moans.</p><p>Billy’s hand reaches down and grinds the toy into him. “Answer.”</p><p>“Y-yes, sir, I’m—“ Steve’s breath hitches and he squirms. “I’m so grateful, I’m—Thank you, thank you!”</p><p>Billy rewards him by leaving his ass alone and fondling his nipples instead. Steve doesn’t know whether to press into his hands or get away.</p><p>Billy says, “I think it’s time we play some more, what do you think?” He points at the bedside table. “Reach over and give me those clamps.”</p><p>Steve whimpers but does as he’s told. Billy wastes no time in attaching them back on Steve’s bruised chest, screwing them on tightly. The pain is like two ray bursts, jolting Steve back into sore wakefulness.</p><p>Billy lets go and stands up, walking around the bed and settling by Steve’s curled legs. He reaches down and fiddles with the chain on Steve’s chest.</p><p>“On your back,” he says. “Hold yourself open.”</p><p>Steve twists around and brings his knees up to his chest, holding on tight. It’s still distantly embarrassing, to be so exposed in front of someone, even if that someone is Billy, but he’s too strung-up to care.</p><p>Billy pulls the toy out, teasing Steve’s rim with it, palming at his own hard cock, and <em>oh, </em>he’s gonna fuck Steve. A bolt of arousal hits Steve hard in the gut. He’s been waiting for this all night. He’s still so sore from the dildo, and now from having the plug in him, but…</p><p>Billy doesn’t bother stretching Steve out. He just grabs his cock in hand, lines himself up, and sinks into Steve in one smooth motion.</p><p>Steve moans, pulling his thighs open wide. He may be saying something, babbling, but he doesn’t know what it is. Billy’s cock is splitting him open, hitting all of the right spots.</p><p>The nap must have given Billy a second wind, because he fucks Steve energetically, nailing him down into the mattress with every thrust until the whole bed frame creaks. Each one feels like a punch in, driving the breath from Steve's lungs. Billy's not aiming for his prostate at all, but Steve still gets fully hard embarrassingly quickly.</p><p>His cock bounces of his stomach, spattering precome. He's desperate to just reach down and help himself along. It would only take a few jerks.</p><p>"P-please, sir," he gasps. "Please, sir, may I come?"</p><p>"No," Billy replies, never stopping, and grabs the chain, pulling it tight.</p><p>Steve sobs and clings onto the bedsheets, writhing. His chest <em>hurts</em>. He wants to come. <em>He needs to come.</em></p><p>Billy grunts, hisses, and thrusts in roughly before he stills, coming deep inside. He tightens his fists, pulling in the chain attached to the nipple clamps. Steve feels tears running down his face. He wants to scream. His cock is hard to the point of pain.</p><p>Still, Billy said no.</p><p>Carefully, Billy exhales and pulls himself out with a squelch. He picks up the toy and slides it back into Steve, stoppering him up, patting Steve’s ass when he's done. Then, he reaches down to Steve's chest and unclips the clamps gently.</p><p>Steve chokes at the rush of pain, sucks in lungfuls of air, and stares at the ceiling. He's twitching all over—he can't stop himself. There's sweat, come, and spit drying on his body, on his face, between his legs.</p><p>"Look at it," Billy murmurs. "So stiff and red."</p><p>Steve screws his eyes shut as Billy's fingers drift over his cock. One wrong move and he'll be gone, finishing. He wants it desperately. He wants to be good. He wants to be allowed.</p><p>Billy's hand doesn't linger. It reaches down to the base of the toy and grinds it in, missing Steve's prostate. Steve whimpers and tries to move away, because it’s<em> dangerous</em>. <em>It</em> <em>hurts.</em> Billy’s eyes watch him intently, cataloguing every facial twitch. He does it again, drinking it the clench of Steve’s abdomen, the tremor in his thigh.</p><p>“It’s sore,” he says.</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Steve whispers.</p><p>Billy shoves the toy in hard, twisting it, making Steve gasp.</p><p>“But you’d let me keep doing this, wouldn’t you?”</p><p>Steve’s voice hitches. “...y-yes, sir.”</p><p>“How long?”</p><p>“However long you want.”</p><p>Billy stops, looking into Steve’s eyes. His hand is still on the toy. He’s trying to read something on Steve’s face and Steve’s heart beats harder at the attention. Abruptly, Billy pulls the toy out.</p><p>Steve exhales harshly, staring up at the ceiling, blinking away frustrated tears.</p><p>Billy returns with the nine-inch dildo from before. Steve closes his eyes and tries not to whimper when it comes to rest on his rim.</p><p>Billy waits until Steve’s eyes are open, looks into them, and starts pushing it in, inch by inch, splitting. Steve’s breath catches and catches, unable to settle. He grips his thighs hard, as if he’d fall apart without the anchor. It hurts, it <em>hurts, </em>and his cock starts flagging, but he wants to see the way Billy’s eyes narrow in appreciation, wants what that makes him feel.</p><p>“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?” Billy says. “Always good for me.”</p><p>Steve sobs, the words jagged in him.</p><p>Billy lets go of the toy, leaving it buried in Steve, and sits back on his heels. “Ride it for me.”</p><p>Steve makes a small, mournful sound, looking up at the ceiling. </p><p>Billy slaps him on his spread thighs. “Come on.”</p><p>Somehow, Steve manages to sit up. He’s panting by the time his knees land on the bed, head reeling from the effort of moving. Gravity starts pulling the dildo out of him and he sinks down after it, keening softly.</p><p>Under Billy’s oversight, Steve forces his thighs to move, to lift him up and lower him back down again. He’s exhausted enough that he can only manage a glacial pace, and the dildo is heavy enough that it slides out of him quickly, creating a dogged sort of rhythm. It squelches as he moves with it. Billy’s come is still inside him, making him sloppy and wet.</p><p>Billy’s eyes are firmly on the place where Steve and the toy join, watching it with the same cool amusement with which he’d watched the baseball match earlier. He doesn’t get distracted from it or look away, and he doesn’t move to help either. It’s just soft entertainment.</p><p>Steve can barely feel his body at this point. The pain has boiled together with arousal for too long—he feels both like he’s trapped in his skin and like he’s flying away. The lewd push and pull of the toy on his walls, the drag of the bumps against his rim, the ebbing and flowing feeling of fullness are hypnotic. He doesn’t have the strength to speed up. It’s not enough. It’s not <em>enough.</em></p><p>Distantly, he realises he’s crying. Billy’s eyes have drifted up to his face, aloof.</p><p>“P-please,” Steve blubbers. “Please, please, sir—help me, please—“</p><p>Billy shifts closer. “What do you need, baby?”</p><p>Steve is still moving, still fucking himself on the toy, but he’s too slow, it’s <em>not enough. </em>He doesn’t know how to even communicate that. He needs, he <em>needs,</em> but he doesn’t know how—</p><p>“Please,” he whispers, and it’s the only thing he can say.</p><p>But Billy knows. Billy always knows.</p><p>“Oh,” he says, and pulls Steve into his open arms, tucking Steve’s face into his neck and bringing his hand to rest against the base of the dildo, offering to pump it for him. “Is this what you need?”</p><p>Steve nods and sobs gratefully, spreading his legs and gripping Billy’s shoulders, leaning into his solid warmth.</p><p>Billy starts fucking the toy into him, too fast and sudden and glorious and <em>too much</em>, pummeling Steve’s prostate. Steve cries out, clawing at Billy’s back, thrashing. He’s still <em>not allowed to come.</em></p><p>“Please, sir, please, please may I—“</p><p>“Don’t be greedy, Steve,” Billy reprimands, not letting up in the slightest. Every thrust is driving Steve up the wall. It won’t matter what Billy says because Steve’s past the point of being able to control his body.</p><p>Billy’s spare hand reaches down between them and grabs the base of Steve’s cock, stoppering everything. Steve <em>howls</em>, burying his head in Billy’s neck. Billy’s still <em>moving. </em>Steve’s brain is about to leak out of his ears. </p><p>“Do you think you’re owed an orgasm?” Billy says.</p><p>Steve shakes his head, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.</p><p>“Do you think you deserve one?”</p><p>“No, sir, n-no, I—<em>nn</em>—No!”</p><p>“Who gets to say when you come?”</p><p>“You do—<em>akh, nnhhng! Sir!”</em></p><p>“Hmm,” Billy says, and pulls the dildo all the way out before sliding it back in leisurely. “Unless I misunderstood, and you weren’t talking about that at all.”</p><p>Steve gasps and rubs his forehead into Billy’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. The stretch burns, sending jolts of electricity to his cock. His body is shaking hard, his hands struggling to hold onto Billy’s shoulders.</p><p>Billy stills, letting Steve catch his breath, letting him come down from his dizzying high and back into shaky control.</p><p>“Yes,” Billy croons, letting go of Steve’s cock to comb through Steve’s sweaty hair. “You don’t want to come at all, do you?”</p><p>“No, sir,” Steve whispers hoarsely.</p><p>“Good boy,” says Billy, pulling the toy out.</p><p>Steve feels bereft. His brain can’t catch up to the mess of sensations. He’s so hard he could weep and his insides are so empty, twitching and spasming as they adjust. His cock twitches in the cool air, desperate for something, <em>anything.</em></p><p>Billy lets go of him and shuffles back. He says, “Drop forward onto your arms for me.”</p><p>Steve does, extending his arms out to catch himself. They wobble dangerously, but he grits his teeth and makes them hold.</p><p>Billy strokes Steve’s cheek, tapping on his jaw. “Open. I’ll use you kindly.”</p><p>Steve obeys.</p><p>Billy wraps his hand around his cock and starts pumping, placing just the very tip in Steve’s mouth. Steve is so desperately grateful that Billy’s not making Steve suck him off, not knowing if his throat could take any more abuse. He sticks his tongue out and swipes as Billy’s cock head, coaxing it.</p><p>Billy hisses and his hand speeds up, pulling twice, thrice before hot come is hitting Steve’s tongue. Steve could weep with jealousy, but instead, he swallows compliantly and watches as Billy tucks himself back in with a smirk. </p><p>“Say thank you,” he says.</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” Steve whispers back.</p><p> </p><p>They doze for another hour.</p><p>Well, Billy dozes. Steve lies awake, his body torn between wanting to fall into unconsciousness and wanting to be fucked. He’s never been this tired and horny in his life. It feels like he’ll be permanently stuck this way. Lying empty is somehow worse than lying with the toy inside him, because at least with the toy he had an excuse feeling keyed up. Now it’s like he’s clutching at nothing, the very air enough to keep him half-hard.</p><p>He knows Billy’s awake again because Billy’s hand drifts possessively over Steve’s stomach, tracing light circles and raising goosebumps. He smiles when he brushes up against Steve’s erection.</p><p>He’s pleased that Steve didn’t relieve himself while he was asleep, no matter how pent-up and desperate Steve was. Steve is too well-trained.</p><p>“Do you want to play again?” Billy asks.</p><p>Steve grunts, screwing his eyes shut. His doesn’t know if he can move.</p><p>Billy sighs in disappointment—Steve’s stomach swoops—and he sits up and gets off the bed.</p><p>“I think you need a little waking up, hmm?”</p><p>Steve follows the sound of Billy crossing the room and opening a dresser. He opens his eyes just in time to catch sight of Billy with a black flogger in his hand.</p><p>“Legs over the side, come on,” he says.</p><p>Steve whines, burying his face in the covers.</p><p>Billy snaps, “I’ll add a stroke for every second you make me wait.”</p><p>Steve throws him a betrayed look over his shoulder, but Billy doesn’t budge. With a groan, Steve heaves himself up onto his hands, hissing when his cock drags against the covers. He shuffles awkwardly to the edge, feeling his bones creak, and kneels on the floor, stomach to the bed.</p><p>“Push your knees together. Tighter,” Billy says, nudging him. “Good.”</p><p>Steve hears the swish of the flogger through the air. He stares determinedly ahead.</p><p>“Do you want to count out loud for me?” says Billy. He raises his hand. “Here we go.”</p><p>The first swing is firm, the many tails of the slogger slapping the skin of Steve’s ass and making him jolt.</p><p>“O-one,” he rasps.</p><p>Billy swings and the next lash is harder, landing on the opposite cheek. Steve hisses and fists the covers.</p><p>“Two,” he says.</p><p>“Good boy,” Billy murmurs. The flogger whistles through the air.</p><p>Three, four, five come in quick succession, light and stinging on Steve’s thighs. He shudders and breathes through the heat they leave behind. His blood is starting to pump.</p><p>Billy swings again, forgiving Steve’s momentary lapse of counting. Steve stifles a cry at how hard it lands. His legs shake.</p><p>“Sssix,” he hisses.</p><p>Another hit lands across the tops of his thighs, this time just a feather-light touch that nonetheless makes him shiver.</p><p>“Seven.”</p><p>He hears eight coming by the whistle and tenses up. It lands searing and sharp on his ass.</p><p>“Ah! Hhhng, e-eight—“</p><p>Another one, just as hard, stealing his breath.</p><p>“Nine!” he gasps.</p><p>Two more hard hits on his upper thighs.</p><p>“Ten! Eleven—<em>ah!”</em></p><p>Billy’s not letting up at all. The flogger whistles through the air, landing with a crack across Steve’s ass, overlapping where he’s been hit before, where the pain still hasn’t faded. Steve sobs.</p><p>“Tw-twelve.”</p><p>Crack—on his thigh. Crack—in the same place, stinging and sore and <em>burning</em> like a motherfucker<em>. </em>His whole body shakes, unable to control itself. The edges of his mind feel fuzzy.</p><p>“Thirteen! F-four-fourteen!</p><p>He screws his eyes shut, waiting for fifteen. The pain is fading slower and slower with each hit, building instead with heat. Usually he’d be so good with this, usually a flogger would be nothing, but he’s so tired and frustrated—</p><p>Billy’s hand cups his ass instead, hot and soothing. Steve lets out a ragged breath and relaxes.</p><p>“I’ll forgive you the one, how about that?” Billy croons, stroking.</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” Steve whispers.</p><p>“Are you all awake now?”</p><p>Steve nods. His face is hot. He presses it back into the covers. </p><p>Billy pulls Steve’s legs apart and pushes one finger into him. Steve grunts. He’s still wet from before, but it’s just on the edge of too dry to be comfortable. </p><p>Billy withdraws his finger, must having come to the same conclusion. Steve hears him uncap a bottle, and then cold lube drips onto him. He doesn’t have the strength to gasp, but he shivers.</p><p>Billy stretches him out silently while Steve shudders and shakes, hands grasping weakly at the covers. He mewls softly when Billy’s fingers press into his prostate, massaging it until Steve’s writhing against the bed.</p><p>“P-please,” he rasps.</p><p>“What do you need, baby?”</p><p>Steve doesn’t know. He can’t think. He wants something more. He’s got an itch at the base of his spine and it’s getting worse and he thinks he’s about to cry.</p><p>“Please,” he sobs.</p><p>“Shh…” Billy pulls out his fingers and quietens him, stroking Steve’s sides until Steve stops sniffling. He places the tip of his cock against Steve’s entrance and then starts pushing in, sweet and gentle, bearing down. He bottoms out with a satisfied hum and pats Steve’s ass.</p><p>“Isn’t that much better, Steve?” he says. “Is this what you needed?”</p><p>Steve closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the bed, breathing deeply.</p><p>This time, Billy fucks him slow and deep, in and out with a constant, soothing rhythm. The drag of his cock against Steve’s insides, still sensitive from their previous play, is raw and filthy. It makes Steve hot all over, makes him feel like he’s being loved, being taken care of. Everything is molten heat and the security of Billy’s weight above him. He finds himself moaning into the sheets, losing his mind.</p><p>Billy’s hands run up and down his back, across his shoulder blades, dig into his ass and keep it spread so he can watch himself disappear into Steve’s body. The skin there is still sensitive from the flogging.</p><p>“Fffuck—“ Steve bites out, starting to push back against Billy.</p><p>Billy grabs his shoulder and helps him, using his grip to drag Steve onto his cock like a toy. </p><p>“Aah—!”</p><p>“That’s it, Steve, good boy. <em>Good boy. </em>Make it tight for me.”</p><p>Steve grits his teeth and clenches. Billy curses, digs his hands into Steve’s hips and fucks in brutally five, six, seven times before he’s coming. Steve feels Billy empty himself inside, twitching. </p><p>Billy pulls out and Steve moans at the feeling of come trickling out, dripping down his thighs, making a mess. He pants into the sheets.</p><p>“How many times was that, baby?” Billy murmurs. “How many times did I come into you tonight?”</p><p>Steve counts. “Five, sir.”</p><p>“Good boy,” Billy purrs. “And you’ve gotten zero. You’re not jealous at all, are you? You don’t <em>need</em> to come.”</p><p>“No, sir.”</p><p>Billy carefully slides his hand around to Steve’s front and ghosts over Steve’s cock. He clicks his teeth. “Aww, but it’s just so hard here. Are you sure you don’t need to come?”</p><p>“N-no, sir,” Steve whispers, screwing his eyes shut.</p><p>Billy’s fingers drift gently up and down his shaft, making it difficult to think. It’s the most direct sensation he’s felt on his cock all night. Steve whimpers.</p><p>The hand disappears.</p><p>Steve has a second to breathe in relief before Billy’s hands are spreading him wide and Billy is licking a hot stripe up Steve’s pucker, <em>searing. </em></p><p>Steve <em>screams. </em></p><p>Billy’s hands grip iron-like around Steve’s thighs, holding him down and at Billy’s mercy as his tongue fucks inside, a brand of pleasure. Steve cries and claws at the bedsheets, desperately trying to keep himself together.</p><p>His blood has gone from a low simmer to a full-blown inferno in a matter of seconds. He feels himself leak, feels himself start shaking and he can’t stop.</p><p>It’s too much, <em>it’s too much, </em>he’ll <em>disobey.</em></p><p>“Pleasepleasepleaseplease—!” he sobs. “I can’t—I—“</p><p>Billy ups the ante, plunging two fingers into Steve and crooking them, pressing them hard against Steve’s prostate and twisting until Steve is almost incoherent with need. Billy’s other hand reaches around to grip Steve’s cock.</p><p>Steve won’t last much longer. He needs Billy to stop, he needs Billy to <em>let him—</em></p><p>“Sir, <em>please! Please!” </em>he cries out. <em>“Please, I’m going to—I’m—“</em></p><p>Billy’s grip tightens around his cock, strokes, and Steve’s last shred of control snaps.</p><p>He chokes and freezes up, feeling like every cell in his body is being electrocuted. His vision goes white and black and he can’t see, he can’t think, he can only feel himself being torn apart. It’s like all of the frustration, the ache, the adrenaline from the last five hours shoots out of him all at once, leaving him desperately and blissfully empty.</p><p>His come spatters into Billy’s cupped hand and he has to close his eyes as he empties. He’s shivering like an autumn leaf.</p><p>His mind disconnects with a soft shake.</p><p> </p><p>Distantly, he can hear babble. He thinks it’s his own voice. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Hands stroke his sweaty hair off his forehead. Something soothing is being whispered at him but he doesn’t understand the language.</p><p>He’s picked up and placed on the bed.</p><p>Billy leaves and returns—a minute? An hour?—later with a wet cloth and wipes Steve down carefully. He’s saying something here too. There’s a cooling sensation as something is rubbed into his backside.</p><p>Steve blinks.</p><p>A heavy blanket is drawn over his body, and then the light is turned off. The bed dips and a warm weight settles at his back.</p><p>It’s silent.</p><p>Steve blinks again. Some shred of his brainpower comes back to him.</p><p>“I—“ he starts.</p><p>“Shh,” says Billy, stroking his side. “You did so well, baby, you did brilliantly. Go to sleep.”</p><p>Steve closes his eyes and obeys.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The bedroom is flooded with sunlight.</p><p>Steve opens his eyes and lets them adjust, focusing on the whorls of wood in the floor. </p><p>He is so heavy. He feels like he’s sinking into the mattress, floating on a warm cloud. It’s like a part of him is offline, not really connecting to reality. </p><p>Little dustmotes drift through the air, catching the light. He follows them. Nothing hurts, nothing worries, nothing presses. He feels high and at the same time gloriously tied down to the present moment. He pulls the covers tighter around himself and snuggles down, relishing in their softness. </p><p>Slowly, last night comes back to him. The sounds, the heat, the movement of bodies. The heaviness of cock and toy and come inside him. He blushes and turns himself around, reaching for the warmth of another body.</p><p>But Billy isn’t in the bed. He’s not even in the room.</p><p>Steve sits up and frowns, staring. Billy’s side of the bed is made up. The pillow is leaning neatly against the headboard. The space is cool to the touch, like Billy’s been long gone.</p><p>Unbidden, Steve’s eyes start to prickle and his throat tightens up. Something ugly, with claws, crawls up his throat and settles in the back of his mouth. He tries to breathe through it but the air comes out stuttering and wet.</p><p>The door clicks open and Billy steps in, carrying two cups of coffee. His eyes jump to Steve’s face.</p><p>“...Steve? What’s wrong?” </p><p>Steve looks up and a tear chooses that moment to form and drip down his cheek.</p><p>Billy sets the two cups on the dresser and walks over, cupping Steve’s face and looking at him intently. Steve blushes harder and tries to hide away, ashamed.</p><p>“Baby, no, come on—what happened?”</p><p>Steve shakes his head but the tears keep coming. He can’t stop. He feels like shit, making Billy worry over something as stupid as this.</p><p>Billy pulls him into his chest and murmurs, stroking Steve’s hair. Steve grips his arms pathetically, burying his face and shaking.</p><p>“Tell me, Steve, please? Is it something I did last night?” Billy asks.</p><p>Steve rushes to shake his head. “Nno, it’s—I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with you, you’re fine,” Billy soothes, stroking Steve’s back. “We went a little hard yesterday, didn’t we? Really put you through the wringer.”</p><p>Steve lets the tone of the words wash over him like gentle water. Billy’s hands are heavy and warm on him.</p><p>Steve feels himself calm down, revelling in Billy’s solid presence. It’s grounding. The thorny thing in his throat eases and falls away. His shaking gradually peters out, muscles loosening.</p><p>Billy lets go of him carefully and angles Steve’s face back into view. He looks into Steve’s eyes and says, “What happened?”</p><p>He’s waiting so patiently, looking at Steve so earnestly that Steve wants to crumble.</p><p>He closes his eyes, pushes aside his embarrassment and mumbles, “I woke up and you weren’t here and…”</p><p>“Oh, <em>baby,</em>” Billy breathes, before tilting Steve’s head up and kissing him deeply.</p><p>Steve sighs and relaxes into the kiss, feeling the final bits of his anxiety drain away as Billy’s tongue pushes into his mouth and caresses his lips. He tastes like toothpaste. </p><p>Steve loves kissing Billy. It’s unhurried and slow—kissing to reassure, to pacify and calm. The slow drag of tongue against lips and teeth, the way it makes his spine feel like jelly. He needs it.</p><p>Billy places one final touch to Steve’s lips and then pulls away, pressing their foreheads together.</p><p>“Better?” he whispers.</p><p>“Yeah,” Steve whispers back.</p><p>“Good.” </p><p>Billy gathers him up into a hug and lays them both down onto the bed, cocooning Steve in the blankets.</p><p>“Does anything hurt?” Billy asks.</p><p>Steve shakes his head.</p><p>Billy’s eyes wander down. “Are you sure? That wasn’t a small dildo I used…”</p><p>Steve flushes. He can’t feel anything now but… He clenches, and then winces when his ass protests in return. His skin there feels tender but unbroken.</p><p>Billy sees it. He snorts.</p><p>“Okay,” says Steve. “Maybe I’m a little bit sore…But it’s not bad. Just, regular sore.”</p><p>Billy kisses his forehead. “Okay. Just rest then.”</p><p>They lapse into silence. Steve’s eyes start drifting back shut again, even though he’s not really tired anymore. He’s just enjoying this.</p><p>Something niggles in the back of his mind.</p><p>“Billy?” he says.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Are you mad at me?”</p><p>Billy pulls back to frown at him. “What?”</p><p>“I c-came—“ Steve stutters. “Yesterday, uhm. I came. Without permission.”</p><p>“I’m not mad at you,” Billy says, and then cups Steve’s face, staring intently. “You were so good for me, Steve. You were really brilliant.”</p><p>Steve bats his hands away and hides in Billy’s chest, huffing.</p><p>“I’m serious,” Billy pushes. “I was <em>so </em>mean to you, and you did so well. I wanted you to come.”</p><p>Steve whispers, “Then why didn’t you say I could?”</p><p>Billy’s gentle smile turns into a smirk, and he tugs at Steve’s hair. “I did say I’d bully you. You were trying <em>so hard</em> to be good for me, I just wanted to make it difficult.”</p><p>Steve says, without bite, “Asshole.”</p><p>“Did you like it?” Billy still sounds smug.</p><p>Steve groans and presses his face harder into Billy’s chest, trying to hide from the world. Billy tugs on his hair and pulls him back out into the air. Steve’s eyes remain stubbornly closed.</p><p>“Well?” says Billy. “Did you? Come on, Steve, give me something here, or I’ll take that as a no. We won’t do that again.”</p><p>Steve scrunches up his face and sighs.</p><p>“I wouldn’t be upset…” he starts. “If we did that again.”</p><p>“Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”</p><p>Steve opens his eyes and glares.</p><p>Billy grins back. “Words, Steve.” He ducks his head and kisses just under Steve’s ear.</p><p>Steve’s breath hitches and he confesses, “I liked it.”</p><p>“Good boy.” Billy bites, worrying a mark into Steve’s neck. Steve’s hands curl into Billy’s hair. Billy finishes giving him the hickey and asks, “And the toy? Did you like it?”</p><p>“Yes,” Steve breathes.</p><p>Billy comes around to face him. “You really are brilliant.”</p><p>Steve blushes and puts his hands on Billy’s face, hiding it. “Stop.”</p><p>Billy pushes Steve’s hands away and repeats, “You’re brilliant. The best. Tightest, bendiest, most torture-able body in New York. I’m one lucky son of a bitch.”</p><p>“Sto-op!” Steve whines again, but this time he’s laughing a little.</p><p>Billy continues, “I’m gonna pamper that tight ass of yours until the end of time, Stevie. I’m gonna put as many big things into you as I want and you’ll <em>let </em>me. I’ll make you cry and make you pancakes for breakfast after, yeah?”</p><p>Steve fights down his blush and catches the last few words of Billy’s rambling. “Pancakes?”</p><p>Billy fakes being unimpressed. “That’s the part you heard?”</p><p>“You made pancakes?”</p><p>“Yes, you dolt, I made pancakes. I was gonna bring them in after the coffee but you started getting all teary-eyed on me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Don’t apologise! I’m the sorry one. I didn’t realise you’d wake up so soon, or I’d have never left the bed.”</p><p>It’s Steve’s turn to hide his face in his hands. “Oh my God.”</p><p>“‘Oh my God’ is right,” Billy says, finally letting Steve go. He gets off the bed. “Come on, I’ll bring you some pancakes and then we’ll take a bath together. Sound good?”</p><p>Steve nods and pulls the blankets up to his face, peering at Billy over them. Billy throws him a soft grin and then walks out the door. Steve can hear him turn into the kitchen and start rattling about with cutlery and plates.</p><p>Outside, the birds are singing. </p><p>It’s a beautiful Saturday morning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i reeeeally though it was gonna be a one shot but i shoulda known myself better i guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Billy’s on the couch with his laptop open when he waves at Steve and gestures for him to come over.</p>
<p>“Tell me what you think of this,” he says.</p>
<p>It’s a Sunday and they haven’t done much. Steve had a so-so week at work and Billy was finishing up one of his art pieces, so they’d chosen to sit around and watch some old movies to unwind.</p>
<p>“What is it?” says Steve.</p>
<p>“Just come,” Billy says, waving again impatiently.</p>
<p>Steve rolls his eyes and flops down beside Billy, leaning his head on Billy’s shoulder. He sees the webpage Billy’s got open and…</p>
<p>His stomach swoops.</p>
<p>“Oh my God,” he says.</p>
<p>Billy grins. “Pick one.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Pick one,” Billy repeats.</p>
<p>Steve says with trepidation, “Why?”</p>
<p>Billy puts the laptop in Steve’s lap and then winds his arm around Steve’s shoulders, menacing. “You know I like spoiling you, baby. So pick your new gift.”</p>
<p>Steve’s hot under the collar. He can feel the flush spreading from his chest onto his face.</p>
<p>The website is a sleek, dark-coloured online marketplace, all minimalist imagery and silver text. A red logo in the corner boasts their name. This particular page must be their collection, because clean, <em>colourful </em>images are arranged innocuously in a grid, showing off their merchandise.</p>
<p>It’s dildos. All dildos. None of them look human.</p>
<p>Billy leans over and scrolls down.</p>
<p>“This one’s my favourite,” he says, and Steve doesn’t even need to ask him to clarify because his eyes are immediately drawn to the scariest fucking thing he’s ever seen.</p>
<p>There, in the left-most column, is a picture and a name. <em>Goliath. </em>Apt. It’s bright red, covered in prominent musculature, curving up like a trunk with a wide, punishing head. It’s helpfully shown standing proud beside an aluminium can, dwarfing it pathetically. Steve swallows.</p>
<p>“What do you think, baby?” Billy says, voice low and dangerous. “You wanna try that one?”</p>
<p>And normally, Steve would bend over backwards to please Billy with whatever fucked-up, painful idea he comes up with, but this… Steve doesn’t think a human could <em>take</em> that.</p>
<p>“Uhm,” he says.</p>
<p>Billy’s hands ghost over Steve’s arms, raising goosebumps. Steve doesn’t need to see Billy’s face to know Billy’s already imagining how he could use that monstrosity.</p>
<p>Steve finds his voice and quickly says, “Could I choose another one?”</p>
<p>“Hmm?” says Billy. Steve was right. Billy <em>was </em>imagining it. Billy’s arm drops back onto Steve’s shoulders and he says, “Of course, baby, but pick fast.”</p>
<p>Steve hears the threat in that. He scrolls up and down, trying to decide which one will simultaneously please the sadist in Billy and not wreck Steve permanently. </p>
<p>He lands on one—an ice-blue model with a series of ridges running down its length—and turns in time to catch Billy’s frown.</p>
<p>“No?” says Steve hopefully.</p>
<p>Billy takes over, scrolling down, and lands on something clearly modelled after a horse. It’s the length of Steve’s forearm and about as thick, with a flared head resembling a fist. It costs almost two hundred dollars.</p>
<p>“W-wouldn’t it be cheaper to just fist me?” Steve says, like an idiot.</p>
<p>Billy looks at him in consideration. “Hmm.”</p>
<p>Steve blanches. He didn’t mean that. He doesn’t know if he wants that. Billy still looks contemplative and Steve feels sweat bead on his neck. He needs to distract Billy, he needs to find something <em>now</em> or he’d spend their next session seriously wishing he’d fucked a horse instead.</p>
<p>His eyes land on a toy and he says, “This one! I want this one.”</p>
<p>Billy pauses. “Are you sure?”</p>
<p>Steve actually looks at the thing he picked and his stomach does another dive. </p>
<p><em>Tier-Jerker, </em>reads the name. The standard size is twice the length of a can and just as wide. There are thick ridges on its shaft forming tiers, like the teeth of a harpoon, and a thick knot at the base.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Steve chokes out. “This one.” He can’t let Billy think about the fisting.</p>
<p>Steve just hopes Billy will get the standard size. Those hopes are swiftly dashed as Billy clicks through the available lengths and grins like a kid on Christmas.</p>
<p>“Oh, baby,” he whispers. “Good choice!”</p>
<p>Steve shivers.</p>
<p>“This is gonna be so <em>fun,” </em>continues Billy, finally landing on the largest size available. “Oh, ho, ho! Oh, baby, <em>thank you, </em>this is gonna make me so happy.” He kisses Steve’s cheek. “You’re gonna just hate this one, aren’t you, baby? Oh, it’s gonna make you cry so much, I just can’t wait! Which colour do you want?”</p>
<p>“Uhm,” Steve whispers. There’s so many. There are two examples in the photo—a dark grey tipped with blood red, and a pearly pink. He guesses it’s easier just to pick one of them. He points.</p>
<p>“The pink?” Billy says. “Cute.”</p>
<p>He takes the laptop from Steve’s lap and starts typing, placing the order.</p>
<p>Steve sits there, his dick hard in his pants, wondering what the hell he’s just gotten himself into.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Waiting for the toy to arrive is agony. </p>
<p>Steve can’t sit still at work without imaging it—it’s size, it’s curvature, the way those ridges would feel popping into him and twisting in his guts. His supervisor starts throwing him strange glances when Steve gets up to grab water for the fifth time in an hour.</p>
<p>On Friday, he gets a message from Billy.</p>
<p>BILLY (14:03) </p>
<p>
  <em>saturday. 6pm.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Billy opens his door at six on the dot and finds Steve standing there, staring into space.</p>
<p>“You good?”</p>
<p>“What?” Steve startles. “Oh. Yes. I’m fine.”</p>
<p>Billy steps aside and lets Steve in. “You wanna eat?”</p>
<p>“No, thank you,” Steve says robotically. “I’ve already had something.”</p>
<p>He stops in the middle of Billy’s entranceway and looks around. Nothing’s out of place. Nothing’s new.</p>
<p>“It’s in the bedroom,” Billy says.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“The box.” And now Billy’s grinning, knowing exactly what’s going through Steve’s head. “It’s in the bedroom. Wanna help me open it?”</p>
<p>Steve swallows, takes off his coat and shoes, and then waits for Billy to close the door, practically vibrating out of his skin.</p>
<p>He doesn’t want to look excited, doesn’t want to look <em>eager,</em> but… He’s been dreaming, dreading this moment for the last six days. His heart is beating fast. He hears the thump-thump-thump in his ears.</p>
<p>Billy leads the way. Every step feels foreign to Steve, even though he’s walked down this hall countless times. The opened door of Billy’s bedroom looms ahead.</p>
<p>The box is, just as Billy said, unopened and on the bed. It’s just like any other unmarked cardboard box, labelled with Billy’s address and stamped in one corner with a discrete logo of the shop.</p>
<p>Billy grabs scissors from his adjacent bathroom and slices through the packing tape with a pop. He puts the scissors away and then nods to Steve.</p>
<p>“Wanna open it?”</p>
<p>“What?” Steve whispers.</p>
<p>“Open it,” Billy says.</p>
<p>Steve approaches the box shakily and sinks down on the bed beside it. His hands tremble as he folds back the flaps and takes out a bubble-wrapped object. The tape on it tears easily. Steve unwraps the toy with quiet reverence, straining to see the first peek of pale pink. </p>
<p>“Ah,” he hears Billy say when it’s finally revealed.</p>
<p>It’s...huge. Steve had hoped that the size was due to the bubble-wrap, but… He wraps his whole hand around it and his fingers are nowhere near touching. It’s so <em>wide. </em>He feels like maybe he should laugh because this isn’t a toy, it’s a display piece. It <em>must be</em>.</p>
<p>“Oh my God,” he chokes out.</p>
<p>“Go wash it,” Billy says, nodding to the bathroom.</p>
<p>Steve obeys mechanically, ignoring how fucking heavy the dildo feels as he brings it in with him and washes it clean under warm water. His fingers trace over the ridges, cataloguing the way they feel, trying to accept that this thing is going to be inside him soon.</p>
<p>He dries it off carefully, the shaking in his hands almost gone now. It’s replaced with an itch. He doesn’t know what to do with it. Run? Beg? Spread his legs and ask Billy to have mercy? His dick twitches in his pants.</p>
<p>Billy’s standing by the bed when Steve comes back out. He points in front of himself and says, “Strip, then sit here.”</p>
<p>Steve shucks off his clothes quickly, not looking at Billy. The dildo stays in his hand the whole time. He folds his clothes a little messily and shoves them into the corner, marching over to the bed and sitting down.</p>
<p>Billy’s legs bracket his own. He looks up. His hand tightens on the dildo involuntarily. </p>
<p>“Lick it,” Billy says huskily.</p>
<p>Steve brings up the dildo shakily and sticks out his tongue, touching the head. It tastes like rubber. He keeps his eyes on Billy as he opens his mouth as wide as he can and tries to stick the toy inside. He gets stuck around the first ridge, swallowing pitifully. </p>
<p>“That’s it, baby,” says Billy, hand coming up to tug at Steve’s hair. “You can do it. Go deeper.”</p>
<p>Steve tries, he really does. His eyes begin to water and his jaw aches from how wide he stretches it, but it’s a lot. It’s long, too. He shifts the angle, pushing it in deeper until he’s gagging hard, stomach heaving.</p>
<p>Billy watches him struggle for a while before he grabs the end of the dildo and pulls it out.</p>
<p>Steve starts coughing, clearing his airways.</p>
<p>“Steve,” says Billy, and Steve knows by the tone to look up and pay attention.</p>
<p>Billy smiles and strokes Steve’s cheek.</p>
<p>“Good boy,” he says. He puts the toy down on the bed and looks into Steve’s eyes. “I’m going to tell you what’s gonna happen tonight, okay? Are you listening?”</p>
<p>Steve nods.</p>
<p>Billy says, “I’m going to be nice to you. Don’t look so shocked. I’m going to be <em>nice </em>and I’m not going to intentionally hurt you. Now, I can’t promise that you’ll like everything that happens, because you’re going to be <em>sore,</em> and you’ll probably cry, but you like that, don’t you, Steve? You like it when I hurt you.”</p>
<p>He waits, staring at Steve.</p>
<p>Steve licks his lips and whispers, “Yes, sir.”</p>
<p>“Na-ah. I need the full sentence.”</p>
<p>Steve squirms and says, “I like it when you hurt me, sir.”</p>
<p>“And I won’t hurt you unless you ask me to,” Billy says. “You know how to ask me, right?”</p>
<p>Steve nods.</p>
<p>“Good boy,” says Billy warmly. “And because you’re such a good boy for me, I’ll make you nice and wet first, and I’ll stretch you out, and <em>then </em>I’m gonna fuck you with the toy, yeah? I’ll make you come. You’ll like it. Isn’t that so <em>nice </em>of me?”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir,” Steve breathes out. “Thank you.”</p>
<p>Billy smiles down at him and it’s a little mean. “Get on all fours. Hips up, chest to the bed. You’ll stay like that for the night so make yourself comfortable.”</p>
<p>Steve scrambles to comply. His breath is coming fast out of him, loud in the relative quiet of the room. Behind him, Billy’s walking about the room, opening drawers and getting supplies. Steve doesn’t look.</p>
<p>The bed dips as Billy gets on behind him, putting his hands on Steve’s ass.</p>
<p>“Did you play with yourself this week?” he asks.</p>
<p>Steve shakes his head. He never does, outside of their sessions. Billy doesn’t ask him to abstain but Steve knows he likes it. He likes knowing that all of Steve’s pleasure belongs to him. Likes hearing Steve confirm it.</p>
<p>“Hmm,” says Billy. “You’ll be tight.”</p>
<p>His thumb drifts over to Steve’s hole and pushes in dry. Steve grunts.</p>
<p>Billy pulls his thumb out and then uncorks a bottle.</p>
<p>“This’ll be cold,” he says, and it’s all the warning Steve gets before Billy’s pushing a lube-up finger into him and twisting it around.</p>
<p>Steve gasps into the bed, partly because of the cold and partly because this is the first thing he’s had in him for almost two weeks. Billy’s been taking it easy recently, using Steve’s mouth and thighs and making Steve rub himself off on Billy’s legs. </p>
<p>Billy’s keeping his promise about being nice because he doesn’t stick a second finger in immediately like he usually would. He waits until Steve relaxes before easing it in, crooking them up to tease at Steve’s prostate.</p>
<p>Steve hisses at the stretch. Billy tuts. He knows Steve can take more than this. Steve, cowed, breathes out and makes himself relax. Billy pulls out, and then back in, pushing into Steve’s prostate. Steve feels something spark. Billy thrusts again and the spark returns, brighter. </p>
<p>It’s getting hot now. Wet. Steve’s hips begin to move.</p>
<p>“You like this, baby?” Billy croons.</p>
<p>“Yes, sir,” Steve replies, thrusting back.</p>
<p>“You want another one?”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
<p>“How many do you want?”</p>
<p>And isn’t that a question? Steve thinks. He’s hot. He needs the stretch to cool him down, to ground him.</p>
<p>“Four,” he says.</p>
<p>Billy starts pressing all four fingers in, and Steve has a moment where he thinks he’s made a mistake because <em>four</em> is a hell of a lot more than <em>two</em>. It burns and Steve squirms, gritting his teeth. Billy thrusts in slowly and then pulls all four fingers out.</p>
<p>“Again?”</p>
<p>“Y-yes, sir,” Steve stutters.</p>
<p>The four go back in, and the burn is slightly less this time, eased by more lube. Billy’s hand must be dripping. Steve clutches the bed sheets and spreads his legs wider, giving Billy more room.</p>
<p>Billy starts thrusting, building up speed, and Steve rocks into it, his body relaxing until it’s pleasurable. He feels full, opened, shuddering at the way Billy’s fingers brush against his prostate. Eventually, Billy stops moving, just letting Steve thrust back and fuck himself open.</p>
<p>“I think it’s time to try something bigger,” says Billy, and Steve’s eyes snap open, head shooting up.</p>
<p>He opens his mouth to protest—he can’t take the toy yet, it’s too soon, Billy <em>promised—</em>and Billy stops him, raising his hand. In it is an average, human-sized dildo in a nice, calming beige. Billy raises an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“May I continue?” he says.</p>
<p>Steve sheepishly puts his head down on the bed and cants his hips up.</p>
<p>“Sorry, sir.”</p>
<p>Billy pats Steve’s ass and starts sliding the toy in without preamble.</p>
<p>It’s easy. Steve thanks his lucky stars. It’s not much wider than Billy’s fingers, but longer in a way that Steve loves. He lets Billy know by moaning and pushing his hips back into it, taking the dildo in all the way.</p>
<p>Billy snorts. “You can do the work on this one,” he says, and then pulls the dildo out, holding just the tip inside Steve.</p>
<p>Steve looks back, gauges the distance, and then pushes himself back onto it, taking it easily. It’s a little like fucking himself onto Billy’s dick, when Billy feels like being lazy. </p>
<p>Steve finds a nice, rolling rhythm and sticks to it, angling his hips so the toy is driving exactly into the spot he needs it too. His cock hangs hot and heavy between his legs, jerking with every motion. He feels his body grow looser, the wet slide of the toy getting obscenely easy as Steve chases his mounting high. </p>
<p>For a moment, he forgets himself. He forgets where he is. He pounds the toy cock into himself and pants, getting ready to come, feeling his balls tighten, feeling his own cock stiffen more and more.</p>
<p>Billy yanks the toy out abruptly. “Oh, that’s going a little too fast, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Steve whines pitifully, opening his eyes and staring at Billy in betrayal.</p>
<p>Billy slaps his ass. </p>
<p>“I’m gonna let you calm down and then we’ll go again,” he says.</p>
<p>Steve sucks in a deep breath and grinds his forehead into the bed, counting breaths until his racing heartbeat starts to slow down. There’s sweat cooling on his skin. He shivers.</p>
<p>Billy’s hand rubs up and down his back. “Better?”</p>
<p>Steve wants to hit him. “Yes, sir,” he grits out. “Thank you, sir.”</p>
<p>“That better not be attitude I’m hearing.”</p>
<p>Steve’s stomach swoops. He tries again, mollifying: “No, sir. Of course not.”</p>
<p>“This is the one we’re using next,” says Billy, and waves something off to Steve’s side.</p>
<p>Steve turns his head and looks at it fully.</p>
<p>It looks like the old toy—black this time, maybe a tad bit larger—but otherwise the same. Steve frowns.</p>
<p>Billy sees that. “Don’t worry, baby,” he says. “There’s a surprise.”</p>
<p>Steve hates Billy’s surprises. He takes a deep breath as Billy dribbles more lube onto the toy and then sticks the tip of the bottle directly into Steve’s ass, squeezing out more into him. It’s cold and weird, a strange pressure that he feels slide through him. Steve hisses.</p>
<p>“It’s going in now,” Billy says as he pulls Steve’s hole open with one thumb and pushes the toy in with his other hand.</p>
<p>It’s just that little bit heavier than the other one, and maybe a breath wider. Steve doesn’t get it. The feels it settle inside him and the Billy twists, really making it at home. Steve grunts but doesn’t move.</p>
<p>Billy fumbles with something and then pushes it against the toy, into it. Steve looks back and sees that it’s a long, hollow tube attached to a black balloon-like pump in Billy’s hand.</p>
<p>“Surprise,” says Billy. He squeezes.</p>
<p>The dildo jerks and starts inflating at the base. Steve gasps as it shifts inside him. Billy keeps pumping air in. The girth of the toy increases incrementally, notching wider and wider.</p>
<p>Steve swears he hears his insides move as the toy expands. It’s only the base, thank god—the long tip of it stays buried just shy of Steve’s prostate, teasing and tantalising.</p>
<p>It doesn’t stop growing. His rim is starting to ache. Steve pushes his face into the bed and mewls with every jerk of the toy. He feels himself gape open.</p>
<p>“Talk to me, baby,” Billy says. “That’s about half a size bigger than the toy before.”</p>
<p>Steve groans. Only <em>half? </em>How big does—</p>
<p>“We need to get to at least twice the size for this next bit to work,” Billy says. “But I’ll leave this in you like it is right now, yeah? Let you get used to it.”</p>
<p>Steve nods gratefully, his face still pressed into the sheets. “Thank you, sir,” he gurgles.</p>
<p>Billy strokes around Steve’s stretched rim, prodding at it. Steve whimpers. The ache is making his cock flag. </p>
<p>Billy sees this too. He clicks his teeth and runs soothing hands down Steve’s flanks before reaching down to stroke him back into hardness. Steve moans. He knows there’s no way Billy will let him finish yet, but the pleasure does help. He opens his mouth and pants.</p>
<p>Billy thumbs at Steve’s cockhead, making him shudder. The mixed sensations in his body stop being so jarring. Steve feels himself relax around the toy.</p>
<p>“S-sir,” he says.</p>
<p>“Yes, baby?”</p>
<p>“You can…” he licks his lips. “You can make it bigger.”</p>
<p>“Good <em>boy,</em>” Billy praises, and lets go of Steve’s cock. </p>
<p>Steve hears the hiss of air from the hand pump before the toy in him grows.</p>
<p>“Tell me when,” Billy says.</p>
<p>He pumps again, and the toy gets bigger. Steve grunts.</p>
<p>He wants to be good for Billy. He wants to make Billy proud. He knows he’ll do that by showing off how patient he is, how resilient, how well he takes what Billy gives him.</p>
<p>“More,” he whispers.</p>
<p>Billy pumps again. The stretch is getting painful, shoving Steve’s insides aside to make room for itself.</p>
<p>“More,” he whines.</p>
<p>Again, larger. It feels like there’s a whole globe inside him. It’s the only thing he can concentrate on, the only thing that seems to exist.</p>
<p>“<em>More,</em>” he sobs, arms trembling. His eyes are leaking tears. </p>
<p>The toy inside him gives one last jerk and stills, impossibly large. He feels ready to split in half.</p>
<p>“Shh, that’s it baby,” Billy murmurs. “We’re finished. You’re doing so good for me, baby, so well. We’re done. We’re gonna let you adjust to that now, hmm?”</p>
<p>Steve nods gratefully, sniffling.</p>
<p>It’s a lot. Wider than Billy’s cock, wider than the usual dildoes they play with, and so <em>immobile. </em>Usually, when they use something big, it moves, it <em>eases. </em>It’s never just stuck in him at the widest point, forcing him to bear it.</p>
<p>Billy moves around to Steve’s front, cupping his face. “Are you crying already? Oh, baby, we haven’t even <em>started.</em> Come here. Come on.”</p>
<p>He shifts so that he’s sitting right at Steve’s head, his crotch level with Steve’s face. Steve looks up at him through wet eyelashes.</p>
<p>“While we wait, why don’t you do something for me?” Billy says, stroking Steve’s cheek. “Hmm, Steve? Do you want to do something good for me?”</p>
<p>Steve nods, because Billy’s keeping his promise—he’s being <em>nice</em>. Steve doesn’t know if this means Billy’s saving up his meanness for later, but… Billy’s never usually this free with his praise. He usually never <em>asks</em> like he’s asking right now. <em>Usually</em>, Billy’s a bully, all harsh orders and mean comments, and Steve <em>loves</em> it, but he’s loving this sweet-speaking Billy too.</p>
<p>He wants to say thank you.</p>
<p>Billy helpfully unzips his trousers and lets his cock jump free, hard and beading at the head. </p>
<p>Steve licks at the precome carefully before opening his mouth wide and swallowing Billy down, moaning</p>
<p>“Ah, that’s it, baby, good job,” Billy grunts, tugging at Steve’s hair. “No hands now. Use that clever mouth of yours. Come on, baby, take me deeper, you can do it.”</p>
<p>Steve whines and obeys, choking himself on Billy’s dick and dribbling spit onto his crotch. He works his tongue on Billy’s underside, traces the veins, hollows his cheeks, and sucks until Billy’s hissing. Steve feels his face burn. He closes his eyes and puts all of himself into it, trying to forget the fullness he’s feeling. He wants to make Billy feel <em>good. </em>He wants to <em>taste </em>him.</p>
<p>“Don’t suck—just open your throat and go as fast as you can, alright?” Billy says. “Good boy.”</p>
<p>Steve sticks his tongue out as far as it will go and holds his breath, bobbing down onto Billy’s cock energetically. Every pass has him making a filthy, gurgling noise, glutting himself. Billy’s cock is hitting the back of his throat and Steve’s starting to get dizzy from lack of air.</p>
<p>Billy’s fingers twist in his hair. Steve looks up to watch Billy’s face twist with pleasure. Billy likes seeing Steve wrecked. He likes seeing Steve with spit on his chin, on his hands and knees, sucking Billy’s cock like he was born for it. </p>
<p>“Fuck,” Billy hisses. His hands tighten in Steve’s hair to the point of pain and he shoves Steve all the way down, shooting deep into his throat.</p>
<p>Steve chokes, body spasming, and then races to swallow before it goes down the wrong way. There’s a lot of it. Billy’s been saving himself too.</p>
<p>Steve gurgles, breathing fast.</p>
<p>Billy pulls him off, holding Steve up and admiring the mess of spit and come on Steve’s chin.</p>
<p>“How’s the toy?” Billy asks.</p>
<p>Steve clenches experimentally. It’s big, and sore, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really.</p>
<p>“It’s good, sir,” he rasps.</p>
<p>Billy wipes Steve’s face clean. “Want to try the next step?”</p>
<p>Steve hesitates and nods. He doesn’t like the idea of anything <em>bigger </em>but he knows they’ve still got a way to go before he can fit his new toy inside him. He shivers.</p>
<p>Billy pushes Steve back into his old position, ass up with his chest pressed to the bed, and then moves away. Steve hears him open drawers and then come back with something new. He doesn’t see what it is.</p>
<p>“I’m going to swap them out quickly, okay?” says Billy. “This won’t fit if I let you relax.”</p>
<p>Steve nods and bites his lip.</p>
<p>Billy grasps the base of the dildo inside Steve and twists it slightly, working it out. Steve groans as it moves. His thighs are trembling but he keeps them spread as wide as he can, gritting his teeth.</p>
<p>Billy didn’t lie. As soon as the dildo is out of him something new is taking its place—hard, cold, <em>wide</em>—sliding into Steve with an incessant press.</p>
<p>“Ah—! <em>Ahhnn—</em>!” Steve cries, clawing at the bedsheets.</p>
<p>“Shh, baby, just breathe through it.”</p>
<p>Billy keeps pushing, and Steve is going to split<em>, </em>he’s going to <em>burst.</em> It’s so <em>cold</em> inside him, it’s not warming up, it won’t even <em>budge</em> when Steve clenches down on it. It’s something metallic, absolutely unmalleable and forcing its way inside him like a fist.</p>
<p>“Just a little bit more…” Billy murmurs.</p>
<p>“Sir! <em>Sir!” </em>Steve sobs. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for.</p>
<p>“There,” Billy says, and thankfully, blessedly, the thing stops. “We’re done.”</p>
<p>Steve’s left clutching weakly at the sheets, panting into them, his head swimming from all of the sensations of his body. He can feel it through him, down his spine, in the back of his throat.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” he hears Billy say. “Fuck, Steve, baby, this is the hottest thing I’ve seen in my life. <em>Fuck.</em>”</p>
<p>He leans on the bed and shoves his grinning face at Steve, waving a phone. </p>
<p>“Want to see? I’ll take a picture,” he says.</p>
<p>Steve closes his eyes and grunts. He wants to—<em>needs to</em>—know what’s in him. He’ll lose his mind if he doesn’t. He nods.</p>
<p>Billy retreats and snaps a few pictures, crowing about his achievement. Steve can’t stop shaking, panting, squirming.</p>
<p>“Look, baby,” Billy croons. “Look at how good you look. Fuck, I want to frame this.”</p>
<p>Steve looks at the photo on the phone and moans.</p>
<p>It’s him from the back, his face hidden, his legs spread as wide as they can go. His ass is high in the air and his hole is stretched obscenely around an <em>aluminium can. </em>It’s silver top is the only thing visible. It’s all the way inside him.</p>
<p>“Mmmnnnn—“</p>
<p>Billy grabs Steve’s ass, spreads it, and pushes the can down even further.</p>
<p>“nnnNNNG, <em>AAH—!” </em>Steve wails, thrashing. It’s too much, too much toomuchtoomuch.</p>
<p>“I’d thought since they were using cans on the website, it’d be a nice way to get you comfortable with those sizes,” Billy muses, ignoring Steve’s suffering. “Isn’t that smart? Hmm, Steve? Isn’t that smart of me?”</p>
<p>He slaps Steve’s ass to get his attention, still pushing on the can.</p>
<p>“Yes sir, y-yessir yessir, <em>please—“</em></p>
<p>Billy stops pushing. Steve sobs in gratitude and sags down into the bed, the last shred of his self-control the only thing keeping his lower half up. Billy hands stroke up his thighs and it’s another hot brand on him. He wants to melt. He wants to disappear.</p>
<p>“You want me to tell you what’s going to happen next?” says Billy.</p>
<p>Steve groans and presses his face into the bed. He can't think about <em>next, </em>he’s barely surviving <em>now. </em></p>
<p>Billy continues without waiting for an answer; “I’m gonna let you adjust to this however long you need, and then I’m gonna get you to watch while I prepare your new toy. We’ll make sure it’s nice and wet and we’ll wait until you’re good and ready to take it and then you’ll take it all. I’m not going to purposely hurt you but I won’t stop either. I know you can take it.”</p>
<p>Steve whimpers. Billy’s hands run down his back, digging into the knots there, soothing them out.</p>
<p>“You like to pretend you’re not a size queen but I’ve shoved things up you long enough to know that’s not true. You love it. You get so hard and moan like you’re losing your mind every time we do it. Do you love it, Steve?”</p>
<p>Billy shakes him.</p>
<p>“Do you <em>love it, </em>Steve?” he growls.</p>
<p>“I love it, sir,” Steve gurgles.</p>
<p>“Tell me what you need to help you adjust,” Billy orders. “What do you need to get used to this size, hmm? Tell me. You want to get used to it quickly, right? So we can keep playing? You want to make me happy by doing that, right?”</p>
<p>Steve grabs the bedsheets with his teeth and whines into them, not knowing what to do. His brain won’t work. His mouth doesn’t want to say the words. He knows he has to say them. He hears the pressing menace in Billy’s words and it’s making Steve’s dick so hard he can hardly think. What does he want? <em>What does he want?</em></p>
<p><em>“</em>F-f-ffuck me withit, sir,” he slurs.</p>
<p>“What?” </p>
<p>“Fu-fuck me with it, sir!”</p>
<p>“Good boy.” Billy pulls the can out slowly, the slide slick and smooth, dirty. “Like this?”</p>
<p>Steve’s breath hitches. He wants to cry. He wants to scream. “<em>Yessir</em>.”</p>
<p>Billy pushes it back in. “Harder or softer?”</p>
<p>Steve cants his hips up and keens. Every grinding trust is driving his thoughts out of his brain. <em>Big, big, big, </em>not <em>enough</em>. It’s sore, it <em>hurts, </em>and it’s better because Billy isn’t even trying to hurt him, Steve’s doing this to himself, Steve’s the one who’s choosing this and it’s giving him such a heady fucking rush that Billy’s forcing him through it, keeping him to his promise, his word, keeping him <em>honest</em>.</p>
<p>Billy slaps his ass, repeating harshly, “Harder or softer?”</p>
<p>Steve gasps at the sting and babbles, “Harder, sir, harder, please sir, <em>pleasepleaseplease hurt me—“</em></p>
<p>The magic words. Billy growls and shoves the can all the way in. Steve <em>screams. </em>It feels like it’s bruising him, it feels so gloriously jarring, his dick is fucking leaking puddles onto the bed and begging to be touched.</p>
<p>It’s not long enough to really fuck him but just it’s girth is enough to punch the breath out of Steve’s lungs. Short, sharp jabs in an out, making him feel like he’s being punctured by a blunt instrument. In a way, he <em>is. </em>He opens his mouth and moans like a whore, desperate for it.</p>
<p>“Take it, bitch, take it, I know you like this, I know you want something stretching out your filthy hole until it <em>bleeds, </em>hmm? Isn’t that right? I’m going to fucking wreck you. I’m going to make sure you’re gaping and loose like my personal little rentboy. You’d fucking love that, wouldn’t you, Steve? You’d fucking <em>love it.</em>”</p>
<p>Steve listens to the filth coming out of Billy’s mouth, the <em>meanness,</em> and he feels alive. He fucking loves this. This was the best fucking idea Billy’s ever had and it’s just a fucking can so the actual toy is gonna <em>destroy </em>him.</p>
<p>Billy’s free hand grasps Steve’s cock and starts pumping, blisteringly hot. Steve’s body jerks like a marionette.</p>
<p>“Sir!” he sobs. “Sir, I’m gonna—I’m gonna c—“</p>
<p>Billy legs go, stopping everything. </p>
<p>Steve reels, thrust into blank space. Going from <em>everything </em>to <em>nothing </em>feels like slamming into a wall. He sucks in deep, gasping breaths, shuddering, writhing on the focal point inside him that <em>isn’t moving anymore.</em></p>
<p>“Put your hand on your cock,” Billy says. “Edge yourself. You know how to do it.”</p>
<p>Steve opens his mouth and keens pitifully, begging. He wants Billy to touch him. He doesn’t know if he has the self-control right now to do as he’s asked.</p>
<p>Billy won’t take no for an answer. He grasps Steve’s hair and grinds his face into the bed, growling, “<em>Do it.</em> Right up to the edge. I’ll know if you’re not doing it properly. If you come, I’ll beat you.”</p>
<p>Steve shivers and mewls. </p>
<p>Billy shakes him one more time and lets go, sitting back. Steve can feel his eyes on him, watching the show. He wonders if Billy’s taking pictures. It makes Steve burn with shame and arousal. His mind jumps to that photo Billy showed him, and his hand clamps onto his cock.</p>
<p>He’s already running high, so it takes only a few pumps to get himself going. He pushes himself to the peak, driving the desperate pleasure higher and higher, right up until the edge like Billy wants, and then he yanks his hand away.</p>
<p>The crash back down leaves him shivering, flushing hot and cold.</p>
<p>“Good boy,” Billy murmurs from behind him.</p>
<p>Steve starts again—pumping, thumbing his cockhead, swallowing whimpers and moans. He pushes until his toes are clenching, just a second from going over, and then he lets go again. </p>
<p>Again, the crash down. He’s panting heavily now.</p>
<p>“Keep going,” says Billy. </p>
<p>Steve goes again. Up, up, up until his whole body is shaking, clenching around the unyielding force inside him and desperate for release, and then he lets himself crash back down.</p>
<p>Another one—riding hard this time, fast pulls to make it dangerous, the memory of Billy’s threat almost making him come right there. The descent from this edge leaves him weak and squirming on the sheets.</p>
<p>“S-sir—“</p>
<p>“Again.”</p>
<p>Steve whimpers. His cock throbs. His ass aches. He wants something—anything—<em>relief. </em>The feel of his hand on himself makes him sob. He changes tack, fucking into his hand this time, pulling out the pleasure as if that could make up for the real thing.</p>
<p>He stops himself just in time, jerking his hand away and panting harshly into the air. </p>
<p>Billy still hasn’t told him to stop, hasn’t given him <em>permission</em> to, so with a miserable hitch of breath, Steve starts touching himself again. His spare hand reaches to his ass, pressing the can in, easing something there. It feels so <em>good.</em> It slides into him, hot now, filthy, and he feels open like he’s never been before, <em>gaping. Raw. </em>His hips start pumping faster into his hand, lost in the sensation, and—</p>
<p>Steve’s eyes snap open and he curls two fingers tight around the base of his cock, strangling his orgasm. His heart thunders loud and rocketing, terrified that he’s disobeyed, that he’s come when told expressly not to—</p>
<p>He hisses and mercifully feels the impending tide recede. It leaves him feeling drained and loose, sweating like he’s dying of fever.</p>
<p>Hands come to rest on his thighs. He startles.</p>
<p>“Good <em>boy,</em>” Billy coos. “Such a good, <em>perfect</em> boy. You did so well, baby. Look at you. So obedient. Have you worn yourself out yet? Are you feeling better now?”</p>
<p>Steve pushes his ass into Billy’s hands.</p>
<p>“There, there, baby,” Billy continues murmuring. “You can take it easy now. Let me take care of you, hmm? Would you like that?” Billy taps at the end of the can. “Shall we take this out then? Start playing with your new gift?”</p>
<p>Steve spreads his thighs, but Billy’s prolonged silence means he’s waiting for an answer.</p>
<p>“Yes, please, sir,” Steve whispers. His voice is hoarse as hell.</p>
<p>Billy hums in acknowledgement and then eases the can out of Steve, pulling it out with a wet <em>pop. </em>Steve grunts and misses it immediately. He feels his hole gape.</p>
<p>Billy leans down to kiss Steve’s tailbone. “I’ll go get it now. Sit tight.”</p>
<p>Steve shivers and shifts his thighs, testing out how he feels. It's weird. The same loose feeling he loves and hates. It makes him feel at once exposed and hollowed-out, pure.</p>
<p>Billy crouches down on the floor off to Steve’s side and holds up the toy.</p>
<p>“Remember what I said?” he says. “You watch while I prep this. Make sure it’s just right for you.”</p>
<p>In Billy’s hand, it looks even larger than it did before. Absolutely monstrous and pale pink in the lamplight, curving down under its own weight. The ridges on it look ready to ruin and the knot at the base is the size of a fist. Steve gulps. The relaxed, loose feeling inside him melts into something like dread. No matter what they’ve been doing so far, no matter how hard Billy’s worked to stretch Steve out—that thing’s not going to fit.</p>
<p>Billy uncaps a bottle of lube and dribbles it on slowly, making sure Steve’s watching. He keeps going until the whole thing is covered and <em>dripping, </em>rivulets running down its sides and beading at the base. </p>
<p>Steve whines and clenches on empty air.</p>
<p>“Is this enough, baby?” Billy says. “Are you impatient? Do you need something to fill you up again?”</p>
<p>“Yessir,” Steve breathes, shuddering in anticipation. He’s losing control. There’s a hunger curling in him like an animal with claws.</p>
<p>He presses his face into the bed as Billy moves away and comes to stand just behind him. Steve can feel his heat. Knowing that the toy is right there, that they’re about to start—to do what they’ve been preparing this whole time for—makes him squirm and shake.</p>
<p>“There’s the head, three ridges, and then that nice, fat knot at the base,” Billy says. His hand strokes Steve’s thigh. “I’m going to pop them in one by one, and then we’ll see if I can actually fuck you with it. Use your words if you want me to slow down. Nod if you understand.”</p>
<p>Steve nods jerkily. </p>
<p>“Hold yourself open,” Billy says.</p>
<p>Steve breathes out shakily and reaches back. His ass is slippery with sweat and lube, so he digs his fingers hard into his cheeks and pulls. He turns his head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Billy. </p>
<p>“That’s it, baby,” Billy crows. “Look at that.” He leans down and spits onto Steve’s pucker, pushing it in with his thumb. “You want it?”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir,” Steve says.</p>
<p>“Are you going to cry for me?”</p>
<p>Steve hesitates and then nods.</p>
<p>Billy grins. “Good boy. Take a deep breath. I’m putting it in now.”</p>
<p>The blunt head of the toy kisses Steve’s rim and he shudders, swallows back a moan. He’s itching for it so much it aches. Belatedly, he remembers Billy’s words and sucks in a breath, closing his eyes.</p>
<p>The head pushes into him slowly, relentlessly, making room for itself. Steve squirms as it stretches him out almost as wide as the can and then goes in with a pop. Heat cascades down his back.</p>
<p>“That was easy, wasn’t it?” Billy muses.</p>
<p>Steve groans and braces himself, elbows by his head. Just the head in and it already feels heavy.</p>
<p>“First ridge now,” Billy says and pushes again.</p>
<p>Steve feels himself stretch, breathing deeply and steadily to allow it inside. Sweat beads on his forehead. Another pop and the first ridge is in him, hooking in and staying put.</p>
<p>“Maybe we shouldn’t have worried all that much at all, hmm? Look at how easily you’re taking it, baby. Want it deeper?”</p>
<p>“Mmmmmmmmnnnn,” Steve grunts, gritting his teeth. His insides flutter around this new intrusion, not knowing what to think of it. It’s softer, just a bit, than the can; a little more malleable.</p>
<p>“Okay, baby, I’ll give it to you,” Billy says.</p>
<p>He pushes, and this time—</p>
<p>“Aaaahhh<em>hhnnnnn!” </em>It’s wider than the can, for one horrible moment, holding Steve’s rim stretched far more than it was before it sinks into him with another <em>pop</em>, holding him wide, <em>wide </em>open. He grinds his face into the sheets and tries not to move away from it. </p>
<p>“Two ridges in, baby,” Billy coos. “Halfway. You’re doing so good for me. Is that deep?”</p>
<p>Steve nods and nods and forces himself to stop nodding, biting his lips is an effort to command it, to claw back some remnant of control. Billy twists the dildo slightly, just loosening it, and Steve sobs.</p>
<p>“Do you need a rest?” says Billy.</p>
<p>Steve nods gratefully, gasping as he tries to get his body to stop shaking. He clenches and whimpers, feeling the sensation of fullness reverberate down his stomach and into his cock.</p>
<p>“Does it hurt?”</p>
<p>Steve shakes his head. </p>
<p>“I’m going to count to ten, and then we’ll keep going, alright?” says Billy. “We’ve got just one more ridge to go. It’s wider, but it’s not too bad. You’ll like it.”</p>
<p>Steve holds his breath waiting for Billy to start. Billy says nothing. He must be counting in his head. Steve sweats trying to keep track of how many seconds he has left, how many moments of rest before the next part of this breaks him. He’s sure of it. He’s already at his widest and they’re only halfway there.</p>
<p>Billy’s hand taps Steve’s back and the ten counts are over.</p>
<p>Steve whimpers.</p>
<p>“Breathe in for me, baby,” says Billy.</p>
<p>Steve has half a second to obey before the pressure resumes and the toy miraculously—agonizingly—slides into him, millimeter by millimeter. He can’t even make a sound anymore. He just hangs there, his mouth open, little choked out noises coming out of it without his control. He’s staring into nothing, trying to comprehend that he’s actually stretching, actually going wider without tearing apart.</p>
<p>This time, the pop drags a ragged cry from his lips. It <em>hurts. </em>He thrashes to let Billy know, to get Billy to pull his hand away because <em>Billy’s still moving, </em>dragging it out and then pushing it back it, making Steve ride the ridge over and over again. It sends harsh, overwhelming cascades of pleasurepain over him, not letting him rest, not letting him <em>breathe.</em></p>
<p>Distantly, he realises he’s making a drawn-out, high-pitched noise, writhing on the bed, grinding his forehead into it.</p>
<p>“Last one, baby, look at you—you’re taking it so well!” Billy praises, tone light as if he’s not still torturing Steve, grinding into him mercilessly.</p>
<p>It <em>hurts it hurts it hurts. </em>Steve doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s gasping and clutching at the sheets, wailing into the air for an unknown entity to come save him. </p>
<p>Billy tuts affectionately and grasps Steve’s weeping cock with his spare hand, stroking. </p>
<p>Steve wails for <em>real, </em>his voice raw and ragged, crying and sobbing as his brain loses its ability to make sense of all of the sensations. There’s a dizzying heaviness inside him, a painful clench in his lower gut as his pleasure builds, a dull throbbing ache in his ass as the toy grinds, <em>grinds </em>into him.</p>
<p>Billy’s saying something—“...taking it beautifully, like I knew you could. This is better than I imagined it. We’re not even close to done yet, do you know? But you’re doing so very well for me. You’ll take this knot and it’ll hurt you so much but you’ll love it. I think I’ll take a picture of it too, frame it alongside the earlier one. What do you think? Oh, you can’t even answer. Of course…”</p>
<p>Eventually, Billy stops grinding the dildo into him and Steve tries to curl in on himself, dizzy and floating. There’s a numbness nipping at the edges of his awareness; the certainty that he only needs one little push for it to overwhelm him completely. His body feels light and impossibly heavy and strung out at the same time. He grits his teeth and feels tears rolling down his cheeks.</p>
<p>Billy leans down and props himself up on one side, his face right by Steve’s.</p>
<p>“Look at me, baby. Let me see you.”</p>
<p>Steve turns and catches the way Billy’s eyes narrow appreciatively at the sight of Steve’s tears, at the splotchy red flush on his neck and cheeks.</p>
<p>“Look at you, my beautiful baby boy… Always so responsive for me. Always so quick to cry…” Billy murmurs, stroking Steve’s cheek.</p>
<p>He grips Steve’s face, leans down, and kisses Steve deeply, thrusting his tongue into Steve’s mouth, tasting the desperation there. He <em>explores</em>, biting Steve's lips, filthy and <em>wet.</em> Steve moans into it and tries to move, to make himself more available. His breath hitches at how that makes the dildo shift inside him. Billy grunts encouragingly and kisses him harder, making Steve dizzy and hot.</p>
<p>Steve doesn’t even realise he’s being distracted until Billy pulls away, leaving him gasping for air. His ass doesn’t hurt anymore—it’s just pleasantly full and tantalizingly sore, like a bruise you just want to keep pushing.</p>
<p>Billy pinches Steve’s nipple and grins when Steve twitches. “I’m going to keep going now.”</p>
<p>Steve whimpers but keeps his legs spread obligingly, crying only a little when Billy resumes playing with the dildo. His thrusts get slightly longer, pulling it out right to the top of the final ridge and pushing it in all the way. Steve shudders.</p>
<p>“You’re drooling, Stevie.”</p>
<p>“Hnnnghh….”</p>
<p>“Do you want to try the knot?”</p>
<p>Steve shakes his head, snivelling. His eyes are screwed tight, his hands curled into fists.</p>
<p>Billy clicks his teeth. “Oh, I think you <em>do</em>, baby. Look at you. It’s going in <em>too </em>easy now. Almost no resistance there at all. And look here…” His hands ghost over Steve’s cock. “It’s so hard. You’re enjoying this. I think it’s time to move on.” He pushes the dildo in all the way, until Steve’s rim is right up against the threatening girth of the knot. Billy coos, “We <em>did </em>promise we’d put it in all the way, baby. You want to keep your promise, don’t you?”</p>
<p>Steve wails and thrashes, his heart jackhammering in his chest. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes. It's so deep in him he can almost feel it in his throat, spearing him wide open.</p>
<p>“Spread out as wide as you can,” Billy says encouragingly. “Deep breath for me. This will hurt. Ah. But I did promise I wouldn’t hurt you intentionally, though, so… Ask me for it.”</p>
<p>Steve's been thrown for a loop and it takes him a minute to even understand that because his brain is running at about half its usual speed. <em>What?</em> He shuts his eyes, trying to comprehend what Billy’s saying.</p>
<p>“Steve,” Billy repeats, firmer. “If you want the knot, ask me for it.”</p>
<p>Steve whines and groans, the sounds coming out warped by his exhaustion. He doesn’t understand what Billy <em>means. </em>Steve doesn’t <em>want</em> the knot. He doesn’t… He doesn’t know what he wants. Maybe he does? He wants to… He opens his eyes and sucks in a deep breath. What did Billy say before, about keeping his promise? Steve wants to be good.</p>
<p>“Ste-eve,” Billy says. “I’m getting impatient.”</p>
<p>“I w-want—“ Steve swallows, licks his lips, tries again. It’s hard. “I wwant theknotsir.”</p>
<p>“What? I can’t hear you.”</p>
<p>Steve growls. “I want the kn-knot, ssir!”</p>
<p>“Oh,” says Billy. “Where do you want it?”</p>
<p>“Pleasepleaseplease<em>please,”</em> Steve whines. “I want it! I <em>want </em>it!” </p>
<p>His legs are shaking so badly. His whole body is. The numbness has crept further into his brain, pleasantly and distractingly heavy. He tries to shake it off, succeeding only in making himself dizzy.</p>
<p>“Okay, baby,” Billy soothes, understanding that Steve can’t say more right now. “It’s okay. I’ll do it.” He adjusts his hold. “Deep breath now.”</p>
<p>He pushes.</p>
<p>“<em>AAH!”</em></p>
<p>“Shhh, baby, it’s alright,” Billy coos, the dildo an unrelenting force in his hand, merciless and punishing. “Just let it in, baby. I know you can do it. Just let me in.”</p>
<p>“Oh m-my Go-<em>od,” </em>Steve chokes out. “Oh <em>my God, Oh—! OH—!”</em></p>
<p>He’s shaking his head, sobbing, crying messily into the sheets. <em>Too much. TOO MUCH. </em>He can’t take it. He’ll die. It’s tearing him. It’s splitting him in two. It’s <em>too much, it hurts, it—</em></p>
<p>“Damn, baby, you’re so very tight here…” Billy wonders. “Let me try something else. Easy does it. This’ll be quick.”</p>
<p>There’s a cold, dribbling sensation Steve barely registers—<em>more lube—</em>before there’s a heaving, sucking sensation as Billy pulls the dildo out an inch.</p>
<p>“Wh—“ Steve doesn’t have time to get his question out.</p>
<p>Billy tuts and then <em>forces</em> the toy inside, slipping past Steve’s rim and into him, <em>whole, </em>with one slick motion. <em>POP.</em></p>
<p>Steve stares into space.</p>
<p>His brain signals into nothing. Neurons firing into the abyss. Nothing’s connecting. </p>
<p>He’s not there anymore. He’s plunged so quickly into subspace that his body doesn’t quite feel like his. The sensations flow over him like waves instead of crashing into him, burying him deeper and deeper underwater.</p>
<p>There’s a distant, overwhelming <em>weight</em> inside him, heavy and dragging. It’s too large for comprehension, a new understanding of what his body can do. His mind struggles to accept it—that so much space can be made in his very centre, that he can be opened up so wide.</p>
<p>Distantly, he also hears Billy speaking, and it’s so hard to understand what he says:</p>
<p>“...keep it in you until...wait a little, you’re so beautiful, you’re doing so well...fuck you with the ridges until you come...beautiful boy...”</p>
<p>Steve opens his mouth and lets out a loud, prolonged wail, his throat closing up. Tears are dripping down his face, landing on the bed. He can’t see for the way they make his vision swim. There’s a ringing in his ears that ebbs and flows, leaving him utterly adrift.</p>
<p>He stays like that for an eternity, impaled and filled to the brim until he overflows. He’s never felt something this deep inside him before. It feels profound. It feels <em>sacrilegious, </em>horribly wrong but mind-numbingly good at the same time. </p>
<p>Hands stroke over his legs, down his back; brush the hair from his eyes. He doesn’t see them. There’s a soft, murmuring ear in his voice, sending a hypnotic warmth through him. He feels like he’s dying.</p>
<p>When he feels like he’s both caught the rhythm of the moment and like he can’t possibly take it anymore, the dildo inside him is being worked out.</p>
<p>He sobs as it passes its widest point, and thankfully, <em>mercifully, </em>it’s not kept in him there. It’s drawn out until he’s back in the relative safety of the lowest ridge. What once felt impossibly, chokingly wide now feels almost gentle.</p>
<p>“I’m going to fuck you now,” Billy murmurs. “You want that? You want me to fuck you, baby?”</p>
<p>He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer because Steve can’t. He just pulls the toy out slowly and then plunges it back in, <em>pop pop pop </em>past each rim and then back up again, not letting Steve get used to any one sensation. </p>
<p>Steve drowns in it. He feels the sheets under him wet with his own spit as he drools more, moaning endlessly. He can’t control himself. He rides the empty, soaring high of subspace as Billy speeds up, pounding into him. </p>
<p>How is this possible? How is it going so fast into him? How did he not break yet?</p>
<p>“Ahhmmmm…. <em>Ahhh….”</em></p>
<p>“You’re close, baby,” Billy says. “Let it go for me.”</p>
<p>Steve closes his eyes and whimpers. His balls draw up tight. His head swims in the rolling pleasure of his body like an endless, relentless tide.</p>
<p>Billy gives him one particularly hard thrust and Steve screams, coming harshly onto the bedsheets, come shooting out of him and hollowing him out. He screams so long he chokes on it, convulsing, the toy dangling from his ass and slowly slipping out, landing in a wet thunk. He’s not done. He’s still coming. He’s <em>still coming.</em></p>
<p>He grinds his face into the mattress and cries and cries and cries, heaving sobs turning into dry hiccups, drawn out by shivers of pure pleasure. It feels like he’s emptying himself out, getting rid of everything that makes him heavy and tied up on the inside and leaving behind a dried out shell. He can’t <em>feel</em> anymore.</p>
<p>Billy’s hands stroke his thighs. “That’s it, baby, my beautiful baby boy. Let it all out. Let it go.”</p>
<p>His finger pushes into Steve and it’s such a soft intrusion that he doesn’t even blink.</p>
<p>“I’m going to use you, okay?” Billy asks, making space for himself between Steve’s spread thighs. “I’ll be very nice to you.”</p>
<p>He pushes in with nothing else, bottoming out and sighing happily. Steve’s sloppy wet and hot, parting for Billy’s cock easily, boneless in the way Billy adores.</p>
<p>He starts moving, his hips slapping against Steve’s ass. Steve grunts and moans but does nothing else. It’s sore. He’s loose. It’s the simplest thing in the world. It feels merciful compared to before, like Billy's just keeping Steve full, like he's just keeping Steve warm, easing him back into being alone in his body.    He wants to sob out his gratitude. Billy is so good to him.</p>
<p>Billy pounds into him three, four times and then stills, grunting, spilling inside. It mixes with the fluids inside Steve and drips onto the bed when Billy pulls out.</p>
<p>“Thank you, sir,” Steve whispers hoarsely.</p>
<p>“You're welcome, baby,” Billy replies, patting his ass. “No problem at all.”</p>
<p>Steve's eyes drift shut of their own accord.</p>
<p>Like a discarded marionette, he sags into the bed, distant from himself. Billy's hands stay on him—stroking, soothing—as Steve goes somewhere else entirely, where his body is just a concept and the world doesn't exist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He comes back in waves as Billy cleans him up, takes care of his wrung-out limbs, rearranges him on a mountain of pillows and buries Steve under soft blankets. He's so warm and loose. He wants to stay like this forever.</p>
<p>Billy strokes his hair out of his eyes, murmuring, "How do you feel, baby?"</p>
<p>"Good," Steve whispers back.</p>
<p>Billy kisses the top of his head. "Don't go to sleep yet, okay? I'll bring you something to eat, and then some painkillers for tomorrow. Be right back."</p>
<p>He leaves.</p>
<p>Steve drifts, reminding himself not to fall into it fully, dragging himself back up to consciousness every once in a while. It’s <em>hard. </em>The frustration of keeping awake mingles with confusion about why he’s doing it. How long has Billy been gone? Where did he go?</p>
<p>There’s the click of the door opening and Billy’s back at Steve’s side, pulling Steve up into a seated position.</p>
<p>Steve whimpers when pressure’s put on his ass.</p>
<p>“Shh, baby,” Billy soothes. “Just bear it for a minute longer.”</p>
<p>He presses something sweet to Steve’s lips—chocolate—and Steve opens his mouth for it, letting Billy feed him. It settles pleasantly in his stomach, pulling him even deeper down into the softness of the bed.</p>
<p>“One more thing,” says Billy, and puts a tablet into Steve’s hand. “I’ve got some water here for you too.”</p>
<p>It’s a struggle to coordinate his limbs, to make his fist rise to his mouth and then reach over for the glass of water. It’s even harder to remember how a tablet is swallowed. He forces it down.</p>
<p>Billy coos. “Good <em>boy.</em>”</p>
<p>He takes the glass from Steve and then eases Steve back down, positioning him comfortably on the bed.</p>
<p>Steve blinks his eyes open, letting them drift over to Billy. Billy smiles and strokes Steve’s cheek.</p>
<p>“Everything alright?” he asks.</p>
<p>Steve grasps Billy’s hand and says, “Sleep.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Billy murmurs back, lying down and curling around Steve’s body. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The clock on the bed stand reads ten. Steve stares at it, still shaking off sleep, and then turns to Billy. Billy’s propped up against the headboard, reading something off his laptop. His fingers card absentmindedly through Steve’s hair.</p>
<p>“Good morning,” Steve rasps.</p>
<p>Billy looks down and grins. “Morning, princess. How are you feeling?”</p>
<p>Steve finally thinks about his body. He focuses on it, clenches down and—</p>
<p>“Fffuck,” he hisses. “Ow.”</p>
<p>Billy’s grin turns sheepish. “Oops. Got a little too enthusiastic there. But, in fairness, you did look like you were enjoying it.”</p>
<p>Steve flushes and hides his face, scooching over on the bed until he can bury it in Billy’s leg. Billy snorts.</p>
<p>“I’ve got some aloe for you,” he says. “Want it?”</p>
<p>Steve nods.</p>
<p>Billy puts away his laptop and gets up, going to the bathroom. He returns a few seconds later with Steve’s favourite tube of cream in the world.</p>
<p>He doesn’t really think about where Billy’s going to apply it, just focusing on the way it always makes Steve feel better, so when Billy starts drawing off the cover, Steve frowns. </p>
<p>“What are you doing?” he says.</p>
<p>“Putting it where it’ll help,” Billy replied. “Spread, please.”</p>
<p>Steve chokes. “What?”</p>
<p>Billy looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “Where does it hurt right now, Steve?”</p>
<p>The heat in his face is only climbing. Steve says, “B-but…”</p>
<p>“Do you want it or not?” </p>
<p>He does. He knows he does. Steve screws his eyes shut, turns his face away and spreads his legs.</p>
<p>Billy leans down, pushes Steve open even wider, exposing his hole. Steve’s breath hitches.</p>
<p>Billy’s aloe-coated finger circles lightly around his rim, applying the cream liberally, and then pushes inside. </p>
<p>“Mmmhh!”</p>
<p>“Just bear it a little longer,” Billy murmurs, concentrating. His finger reaches as far as it can go and it’s <em>sore. </em>The cream is cold, though, and it’s soothing slick spreads out almost immediately.</p>
<p>Billy pulls his finger out and pushes Steve’s thighs close.</p>
<p>“There,” he says. “All done. That wasn’t too bad, was it?”</p>
<p>Steve’s still not looking at him. His face burns with embarrassment, and he’s got a growing problem…</p>
<p>“Did that get you <em>hard?”</em> Billy says, looking down. His eyes glitter. “Oh my God, it did. Look, you’re getting harder.”</p>
<p>“Sto-op,” Steve stutters, squirming away and trying to hide himself.</p>
<p>Billy grabs his hand. “No, let me see. Look at me.” His hands tighten, authority creeping into his voice. “Steve, <em>look at me. </em>There we go. Do you want me to help?”</p>
<p>Steve can feel his eyes getting wet. He’s always so damn emotional the morning after, one thing enough to get him worked up. Arousal hums through him. He looks at Billy’s expression and knows Billy’s serious—he’ll let this go if Steve asks him to.</p>
<p>So Steve nods instead.</p>
<p>Billy leans over him, kisses his stomach, and swallows him down. Steve moans softly, too weak to do much else. Billy hollows out his cheeks and starts sucking, keeping Steve pinned by the hips.</p>
<p>It takes him an embarrassingly short time to get worked up, and even more embarrassingly quicker to come, spilling into Billy’s mouth with jerky cries. It feels <em>good, </em>leaving him boneless on the sheets, staring up at the ceiling.</p>
<p>When he looks back down, Billy is standing, his own erection visible in his briefs.</p>
<p>Steve reaches down shakily and pulls his legs open, offering.</p>
<p>Billy snorts and shakes his head. “It’ll hurt.”</p>
<p>“I don’t mind,” Steve replies.</p>
<p>Billy closes Steve’s legs and says, “I do. There’ll be real damage next.” He puts his hands on his hips. “You should get up though.”</p>
<p>“But…” Steve continues.</p>
<p>Billy tuts and jerks his head towards the door, in the direction of the kitchen. “You can suck me off at breakfast. It’s not like you’ll be able to sit in a chair, not for a while at least, so…”</p>
<p>Steve’s mouth goes dry. He nods. Then, he thinks and reconsiders. “Can I get ten more minutes?” His ass is <em>sore. </em>He doesn’t think he can move right away.</p>
<p>Billy throws his head back and laughs. “Take however long you need, baby. I’ll go start preparing. Pancakes again?”</p>
<p>“Yes, please,” says Steve, smiling as he settles back down into the bed.</p>
<p>Billy gives him one more soft look before walking out the door, humming something to himself all the way down the hall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Much later, after breakfast that turns into brunch, after conversations about last night and if they liked it and what kind of number they’ll assign that kind of thing—</p>
<p>
  <em>“A seven at least,” Billy says. “You were pretty far out of it at the end.”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“It didn’t actually </em>hurt<em> though, and the numbers are mostly about that,” Steve disagrees. “A five.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Billy mulls over it. “Alright. A five it is.”</em>
</p>
<p>—and a more robust discussion about their plans for the rest of the day, Steve wanders back into the bedroom to collect his phone.</p>
<p>He sees the box for the dildo, pauses, and then lets curiosity overwhelm him. He looks inside.</p>
<p>Packing paper, more bubble wrap, and then something else, at the very bottom. He reaches in, digging for it, and then brings it out into the light.</p>
<p>It’s a coupon. <em>20% off your next purchase!</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Billy startles when Steve slaps it down on the table. His eyes dart up to Steve’s face, down at the coupon, and then widen when he reads it.</p>
<p>“Steve,” he says. “What’s this?”</p>
<p>Steve, blushing furiously, shrugs and says, “Well, you did… You looked really interested in the <em>Goliath </em>when we were ordering, so…”</p>
<p>Billy blinks, processes what Steve’s saying, and then grins so wide he almost looks manic. Steve swallows.</p>
<p>Billy drags him in close, looks Steve adoringly in the eyes, and then buries his face in Steve’s belly, hugging him tight.</p>
<p>“I have the best boyfriend ever,” he whispers, and then immediately gets up to look for his laptop.</p>
<p>Steve, still blushing, calls out after him, “I reserve the right to decide if it’s going into me or not when I see it!”</p>
<p>Billy yells back, “Of course, babe!”</p>
<p>Steve tries to fight off the smile when he hears Billy start giggling like a little kid as he orders.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>did i just spend a week writing 10k words of pwp again?💁🤦</p></blockquote></div></div>
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